François slumped into the ground. He hated this body. He hated this mind. Everything was fixed, why was he still like this? He had the medicines and surgeries, why was he still broken?

He traced the scars on his chest. This is what he wanted. He got what he wanted. He should be happy. This shouldn't be happening.

This is why nobody will never love you.

You did this for attention.

You'll never be a real man.

He thought back to his parents. Is that why his father left? Because he knew that François would do something like this? Is that why his mother threw him out? Is that why she cursed at him? Yelled at him? Starved him?

"[REDACTED], YOU ACT LIKE A MAN! WHY CAN'T YOU BE MY LITTLE GIRL?"

[REDACTED], YOU WON'T EAT UNTIL YOU WEAR THAT DRESS!"

Y'know what the worst part is about it? Sometimes, he catches himself acting like her. When he's mad, he sounds like her when she would yell at him. He says disgusting things like her, he screams at the top of his lungs like her, he throws things like her. He even looks like her with a bright red freckled face and veins popping out his forehead. Thank God he didn't get her temper, he's rarely ever angry.

Wait, that one thing that makes him great. His therapist said to list five things that he likes about himself. That's one.

Two. He really likes his hair. It's red, short, and super curly. He remembers his first haircut. His mother never allowed him to cut his once long hair. The day he moved in with his grandparents, his grandfather cut his hair. It felt so wonderful to cut that deadweight off. He made himself laugh when he remembered that his grandpa gave him a mohawk for five minutes.

Three. He likes his surgery scars. He lifted up his shirt to see them. They looked so cool. He didn't need that stupid binder anymore. He touched each one and giggled.

Four. He liked his dick. He laughed at that. What? He had to pay for that! It was big too! Who won't love that?

Five. He loved his eyes. They weren't his mother's or father's, they were thanks to his grandmother. They look just like hers. Her eyes are so sweet and gentle, what a gift to have such a wonderful thing.

He felt much better, and good timing, too. His brother texted him that it was time for dinner. He loves his brother, and he definitely loves the result of his birth. His mother said that he was such a bad daughter that she was having another girl to replace him with a one-night stand. She was so positive she was having a girl that she didn't bother having any tests. You should've seen the look on her face when a screaming baby boy was born.

He went downstairs and went to eat. They ordered Italian. His brother was antisocial, staying his room and playing video games. François didn't mind, his mother made him like that. Unlike him, who was only able to go out to be shown off, his brother was locked away in his room. To be honest, he got the worst of her abuse. He was hit around, thrown outside in the cold, screamed at, hit with the buckle of the belt, and all because he wasn't a girl. Once, she didn't feed him for four days because he didn't want to eat his vegetables. François cooked for their mother, and fed him off his plate when she was sleeping.

With his grandparents on a date, he called up one of his friends chatted with her.

He shook his head as he ate. "Oh my gosh, girl, I just had the worst gender dystopia ever."

"Just tell me about it, my aunt came over and started pointing out how hairy and big I look now."

"What a bitch!"

"Hey! She doesn't know yet!"

"But girl, it's obvious! You look super girly! Your hair is super long, your makeup is always on point, and you have like the cutest clothes!"

"Aww, thanks! You look like totally manly. You're muscular, short hair, and that stupid axe-"

"The official trans guy smell! You're lucky I'm not telling Beau!"

They started gossiping about Beau and a few other people. It makes him happy that he has someone who kinda understands how it is, and Beau is still waiting for hormones. He considers himself lucky.

"Girl, I heard you're going to that stupid war in Asia. Why are your grandparents making you gooooo?"

François put his plate in the sink. "Belle, I already told you! They want me to do some heroic shit or something like that before I get my bakery."

"But I'm going to miss you!!!!"

"I'll miss you too!!!"

In truth, he was kinda excited. What's more exciting and manly than going out on the battlefield with guns blasting in your ears? He'll have a cool cut, uniform, he'll be so cool!

"Alright, girl, I gotta go. I wanna talk to Marcel."

"Ok, tell him I said hi."

"Will do."

He worries for Marcel, he's only eleven. He doesn't have that many friends because he's so damn quiet. He made progress with his therapist, before he used to cry all day. He smiled more, but he was still completely mute. Marcel said he'll take François leaving well, but he knows he's lying. He looks like he wants to cry when the topic is brought up.

He knocked on his door and went in. Marcel was sitting on the bed, playing FNAF. No wonder that kid has to sleep with the lights on. François told him to turn off the game so they could talk. He's very gentle with him. He raised him, their mother more so just used him for when she was angry. Marcel does whatever he says, he would rip his own kidney if François wanted him to.

"Hey, Mar. How are you doing?" François signed as he sat next to him, the bed bouncing slightly.

Marcel sighed and signed back. "Kinda stressed. My teacher is making us to a math test tomorrow!"

"I think you'll be fine."

Marcel smiled at him. François loves his little smile full of braces.

"Listen, I know you're nervous about next month. But I want you to know that everything will be ok."

The younger hugged him, buried his head into his chest, and began to cry. François' heart breaks when he cries. He used to hear it through his cracked walls when his mother would be shouting or hitting him. It made him feel so useless that he couldn't stop the big tears, but now he could.

He spoke to him, playing with this black curls. "I know, I know. This is super hard. But I'll be back! Y'know, those people in Vagu have been fighting for like two years! It'll be over as soon as you know it!"

Marcel looked at up as he said, "Trust me, Marcel. Everything will be ok. I'll be good, you'll be good, everything will be good."

With shaking hands, he signed I love you. François smiled and kissed his forehead.

-----------‐-----------------

Training was rough, but he didn't even have to do hard labor. He was going to be a military doctor, it was easy. The day he left, Marcel cried his little heart out. François promised him that he'll be alright and that he can play with his video games anytime he wants. He never saw his grandparents look more proud. It was quite boring the first few weeks, just healing sick soldiers. He was allowed to fight a few times, that was super fun.

Then, on January 1st, 2017, there was a new year's party. François and a couple of his friends were allowed to go. On the dance floor, after making a joke, was a high pitched giggle. He looked behind him and saw two soldiers laughing.

"Sorry!" What a beautiful French voice. "That was funny!"

One of his friends, Joanne, convinced him to go over and talk to them, which he did. He saw them more closely. One was tall, had a buzzcut, looked scary, and kinda smelled like piss. The other one, though, oh my goodness. Love at first sight.

"Oh thank God, you're French! I can finally talk my language, y'know?" He was all smiles, his brown eyes were sparkling.

François laughed with him. "Of course! You sound different, though."

"Well, I kinda also grew up speaking Korean. That's how I met big guy." The smaller tapped his leg, the Korean smiled.

Just then, someone ran up to the man with the brown hair and started teasing him. François jumped, then watched on in confused as the stranger spoke Spanish. He knows a few languages; French, English, German, and even sign language in all of those. But Spanish was completely foreign, especially the way he rolled his Rs.

Thankfully, the man he liked spoke in English. "James, this is our new friend-" then in French. "oh, what's your name?"

"Don't worry, I speak English." That made James smile. "My name is François."

"Woo, that sounds like a royal name." He shook his hand. "Name's James."

The Korean one, surprisingly, also spoke French. "My name is Kim."

Before he could ask the last one, one of his other friends pulled him away to dance. François waved goodbye, and blushed as the nameless one waved back.

"Woo!!! Someone's in love!!" His friend laughed as they danced.

"Oh hush!"

Throughout the night, the two of them kept stealing glances at each other. François tried miserably not to make it obvious. Those stupid butterflies made it impossible not to think of those brown eyes and black suit. He left before he could see him again, much to François' dismay.

---------------------------

Two weeks later, there was a patient who had a pretty bad cut on his leg. He was called in to take care of it. When he walked in, he saw the nameless man smiling back at him.

"Hi, François."

"We meet again." The butterflies came back. "You got cut?"

"Yeah," he rolled up his pant leg. Not too bad. "doesn't really hurt."

"Yeah, just needs a few stitches." He took his notebook."I can finally learn your name now."

"That's right, I never told you!" François sat on a chair next to him. "Get ready, it's long."

"I'm ready."

"Lloyd John Doh-Sauveterre."

François didn't mean to talk aloud. "Woo girl." They both stared at each other for a second, then laughed.

"Sorry, it's hard not saying it to straight people."

Lloyd raised his eyebrow. "Straight? Girl, I'm straight as a rainbow."

François laughed again. "Oh my gosh! Ok ok, don't make me laugh. I need to do your stitches."

He cleaned the wound before putting in numbing cream on it. Him and Lloyd kept talking, both trying their hardest not to laugh.

"Like sewing a sweater, huh?"

François grinned. "Remember what I said."

There was silence for maybe four minutes before Lloyd quietly sang in English, "The best time to wear a stripped sweater is all the time~"

They both started wheezing, Lloyd even crying a little. What would've took a fifteen minute fix turned into an hour because they both kept accidently making each other laugh.

"Hey," François said once they finished. "Do you want to go out with me and my friends tomorrow?"

"François, I can't walk without a cane for a week."

"Oh, well we'll come to your room then." Oh my God he's sounded so desperate.

"That works out, just knock first."

------------------------

François brought Joanne and another girl bestie over. They both thought James was the cutest thing ever, and of course James lived for the attention.

"Hey Franny," Joanne said while her arm were around James' waist. "We're going for a walk, ok?" She winked at him, François gave a thumbs up.

"I feel bad for her, he's aromatic." Lloyd said to the other girl.

"Don't worry, she is too."

"We won't see them until tomorrow." They all laughed.

The girl, sensing the vibe, also excused herself. Just the boys, sweet.

"So, uh, why did you join?" The butterflies were in his throat.

He looked to the left. "Oh, I felt like it."

"Same, but I miss everyone at home, especially my brother."

"I miss my boyfriend."

François' brain screamed as his heart shattered.

He tried to make his voice as cheerful as he could. "Oh...you have a boyfriend...?"

"Yeah! I have a few pictures of him in my pocket." He took out the prettiest one and showed it. François was almost in tears. His boyfriend was tall, hairy, and so manly looking. He felt more girly the more he looked at him.

"We met in high school." Lloyd smiled and blushed as he touched the dark face on the pictures. "He was a football player, I was in marching band. I really really liked him, his name is Mulligan by the way, and then one day in lunch-" he started giggling. François was teary eyed. "he asked me out! And we went on a date and kissed and now he's my boyfriend ever!"

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

"I know! Do you have a boyfriend?" He noticed the sad look on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's not a nice thing to ask."

"Nah, it's good. I don't, though. I like all genders though."

"That's so cool!"

The more they spoke, the more Mulligan's face flashed in his head. He was the definition of manliness. He looked muscular, had a mustache, he looked so beautiful. It makes sense. Lloyd only deserves the best, and he sure as hell got it.

Eventually, they had to say goodbye. François hugged him and Lloyd promised they'll hang out more. If François were to be honest, he was too embarrassed to even look at him again.

That night, he silently cried himself to sleep.

------------------------------

Around early February, the worst thing ever happened. One of the nurses were trying to help a soldier on the battlefield, and someone mistook her for a soldier and shot her in the head, killing her instantly. That nurse happen to be girl that slept with James. Poor Joanne.

François was very upset. He stayed in bed, crying, not eating, the works. Lloyd heard of his friend's misery and invite him to the music room. It's mainly used for small children that soldiers had or children who's parents got killed. François, still grieving his loss of his friend and his chance with Lloyd, went with him.

Dimly lit with vanilla scented candles, (François' friend told Lloyd his love for them) Lloyd have him sit with him at the grande piano. He gave him a plate of fruit.

"I'm sorry for your loss, please eat."

François burst into tears and nibbled at the oranges first. Oh great, the butterflies were back. Lloyd cracked his long fingers before he started playing the piano.

"Que tu te sentiras tout petit, quand tu auras les larmes aux yeux, Je les sécherai toutes~"

François couldn't believe how beautiful his voice sounded. So light and refreshing, like a breath of fresh air. He laid his head on his shoulder as he kept singing. He needed this so badly and didn't even know it.

After he finished, he gave François the most needed hug in his life. It was one of those moments were words won't needed. This was, by far, the kindest thing someone had done for him. He felt Lloyd rub his back and whisper that everything will be just fine. He breathe in the scent of the candles and Lloyd, who happen to smell like bread and flowers. Weird combination, but certainly not a bad one.

If only he could be in his arms forever, but he let go eventually and thanked him. Lloyd looked at him with such love that François had to control his bulge. But it was friendship love, and he knew that. They walked back together, holding hands. Lloyd spoke to him in a soothing voice, the winter making its way into their clothes and forcing them to be close together, although they both didn't mind it.

Being in love is a pain in the ass.

THE MEETING ON THE TURRET STAIRS- Frederick Burton