tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersElysium: The Chance

Elysium: The Chance

bySecondCircle©

This is a slow burning story, but she'll burn bright. Cast your vote and leave me your thoughts. I cherish it all and grow. Thank you for reading, and for opening the doors to Elysium. Hope you guys enjoy.

All characters are above age 18.


****

Reflection

****

"They were right about you."

I could still hear the rain over the blaring radio. It was really coming down outside. I hated it. I fucking hated it deep in my gut. It couldn't be helped. Everything was making me sick. Usually I liked a good rain storm. I'd sit inside and catch up on TV shows, play some scales on the SG, or anything else I wanted to do while I had the place to myself.

Anything else I wanted to do.

The words used to excite me. Now they felt like a knife twisting in my stomach. And the rain? It felt like a cliche, a stupid tired cliche.

I reached for the bottle again. My trembling fingers almost knocked it from the sink. The smell didn't bother me anymore, but the burn still blazed its trail to my gut. Rum was my comfort drink, but I wasn't comfortable anymore. I just wanted to stop feeling. After two more desperate sips, I coughed and nearly choked on the spiced alcohol. My eyes rose to the mirror again.

Searching the reflection of the girl I saw there, all I could hear were the voices. I couldn't hear the guitars on the radio. Even the rain seemed to fade. I blinked when I felt the tears again. God dammit, I'd always thought I was so pretty. Why the fuck did this happen? I loved my long hair. My eyes... they looked amazing. Looking in that mirror had always been so thrilling.

Until the voices.

"They were right about you," I whispered to the girl in the mirror again.

The voices only got louder.

It was Joey that I heard mostly. That made it hurt even more. We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, and right like that we were done. Living together was great. I had worked nights and he had days, so during the week we each kind of had the place to ourselves in turn. We'd hang out like old times on the weekends, mostly get the band together to jam in the garage. It was so cool.

I'd fucked all that up. And I never even got to tell him the truth, the real truth.

I had to go through with it. I had to. First I had to stop fucking crying. I'd already reapplied eyeliner twice. One day I'd remember to buy the stuff that wouldn't run.

One day. I glanced down at the bottle. The knife twisted yet again, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I traced my eyes in black. The shadow looked pretty good. I'd learned how to do the "smokey eyes" from the internet. I touched up the foundation on my cheeks, but my eyes still looked puffy. Anyone could tell I'd been crying. There wasn't a whole lot I could do about that. Studying my smooth face in the mirror, I sighed with a quivering lip. I wanted to use lipstick with the skirt I was wearing, but I always thought I looked like a clown when I tried to wear lipstick. Gloss would do. I loved the taste anyway.

Standing up straight, I examined my body. My hair was straightened and fell over my shoulders. I always tried to keep it over my chest, especially if I was going out. The dress felt amazing on my slender body, and accentuated my curves. I allowed myself the faintest twitch of a smile. My legs looked amazing. I wished I could see more of them in the mirror. The heels would match. I needed to stop worrying.

I smoothed the silky black dress over my flat stomach. The voices were getting louder. Doubt was eating me alive. That clenched jaw of my father's kept flashing in my head. I touched my cheek tenderly at the memory. The sound of Joey's screams and the windows rattling as he slammed doors echoed in my mind. The rabid way he looked at me... it hurt so fucking bad.

Before I even realized it, I was gulping rum again. I squeezed my eyes shut, maybe against the burn or maybe to block out those angry faces. It didn't matter. They were still there. I set the bottle down on the sink and glanced over at the pills near the faucet. There was one more way to be truly numb. I just didn't want that. I wanted things to go back to the way... no. That wasn't true either.

I felt like tearing my hair out, but I swallowed all of the frustration. I had to try to give this a shot. It was what I wanted. It was who I was. If this failed, I didn't know what would happen. I had to try. I'd go out and enjoy myself. Maybe I would meet someone, someone who saw the real me.

I glared at the mirror. Fuck Joey, fuck Dad, and fuck work. I didn't need any of them. I was beautiful. The woman in the mirror had no time for nagging voices and naysayers. I looked sexy as hell. I was going to meet someone and have the time of my life. Probably even have sex with them. Why not? I could be a whore if I wanted to, and that's what I wanted to be.

I sniffled for the last time, took a swig of rum, and turned from the sexy girl in the mirror. I headed into my bedroom across the hall and found my little purse. Just as I was about to head toward the car, the voices welled up inside and started to choke me. Swallowing hard, I glanced back into the bathroom. I hesitated. Then, I stepped inside and snatched the bottle of rum and the little container of pills.

With a breath, I straightened my dress and found my keys.

****

Exposure

****

People were already staring.

The little cocktail bar I'd picked out was right on the street, so I had to park my old Camry in the back. Which meant I had to walk around the block to the front door. The sun hadn't even gone down yet. I'd kind of jumped the gun on the evening, but I couldn't stand sitting at home with myself anymore.

Every second I was outside felt like I had a prison tower spotlight shining on me. I tried to keep my eyes down and avoid looking at other people, but that was useless. The sidewalks and streets were already crowded; after all, it was Friday night. I prayed I didn't fall wearing my heels. I prayed that the drizzle would hold off and not screw up my hair. Mostly, I prayed people would stop staring.

It was just little odd glances at first. A girl passing me on the sidewalk did a double take. Then an older guy wouldn't stop turning and looking at me as I walked behind him. My skin felt hot even in the cool evening air. The alcohol had my head feeling light and a little dizzy. I had to shake all the feelings away. I had to power through this.

I got a brief lift of confidence when a guy held the door open for me. Still, I found it terrifying to make eye contact with him, though I could feel him staring at me. The cocktail bar was dim and quiet, except for the chatter and laughter from the patrons. Taking a breath, I eased toward the four sided bar in the middle of the room.

To my dismay, it was already starting. I passed a few tables and booths as I stepped along timidly. A beautiful blonde woman stopped talking just to look at me. I could see the disgust on her face. Her friends turned to see me, and one of them stifled a laugh. A handsome man and his date both cocked an eyebrow up at me and hid their smiles in their drinks.

It seemed like everyone had noticed me. I blinked away the stares and walked more briskly toward the bar. I refused to let them get to me... but they were. Nothing felt right. Already I wanted to flee, to run to the car and drive home. I knew there was nowhere left to run though. I had sworn to go through with this, and I had to try. I'd just have a few drinks, see how things went, and go home. Just an hour or two maybe.

There were several stools at the bar. I took a seat at one of the corners. The place was so elegant and classy. The bar itself was fixed with some sort of lighting underneath the glass that gave the surface a bright milky glow. Two bartenders drifted about, chatting with a few patrons and fixing drinks. Everyone was dressed to impress. The men were all so well groomed and each wore suits and fancy shirts. Every woman I saw wore a dress of some kind.

Even sitting at the bar, I felt out of place and ill dressed. Compared to these people, I probably looked like a smudge of black grease on a white tile floor. I crossed my arms in front of me. My eyes darted around at the faces at the bar, gauging their mood and trying to see if anyone took particular notice to me. Each passing second made me less comfortable in my own skin. My face felt flushed. My heart was thrashing on an icy tide in my chest.

"How are we tonight?"

I glanced up at the woman behind the bar. She offered me a warm smile, but even so I found it hard to hold her gaze.

"Uh, f-fine," I replied weakly.

"Can I get you something?" She asked.

I hesitated, trying to think of what was plausible for me to drink.

"A... a martini, please."

"Alright, just need some ID if you don't mind."

I fumbled in my little purse for my driver's license. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking. I cursed myself for choosing black fingernail polish. It looked so tacky. Finally, I offered the woman my license. She leaned and glanced at the card. Then she peered more closely. I saw the way she studied me before she turned to make my drink, and I realized I made a mistake.

With a sigh I stuck the license back in my purse. How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I think about that before? I tried to calm my nerves and just sit still while I waited. There were a couple new gazes leveled at me from across the bar. I crossed my legs, adjusting my skirt when it slid up my thighs.

When I lifted my eyes, I saw a woman sitting a few stools down from me. Something inside of me fell apart when I looked her over. She was everything I wanted to be. Her hair was black like mine, but hung in bouncing curls that I could only dream of imitating. The woman wore the vivid colors of a peacock, sharp greens and blues, speckled with gold and all traced in bold black. Feathered earrings dangled past her smooth jawline. My god, she was gorgeous. She was probably twice my age and still looked radiant and voluptuous. Beyond the drooping neckline of her blouse was a dark line of cleavage slicing down her tanned flesh.

There was something else about her... something intangible. The raven haired beauty was sitting with seemingly not a care in the world, oblivious to anyone around her. She wasn't even doing anything, not reading, not chatting with anyone, not looking at a phone... the woman just calmly sipped her drink and watched the other patrons. Maybe she was waiting on someone. Maybe she was alone in her own thoughts. Either way, she seemed so at ease.

The woman turned and our eyes met. For several seconds I couldn't breathe. I wanted to look away. I couldn't. Her dark eyes had found me and held my gaze firmly. She had such a lovely face, fierce and feminine, but so delicately beautiful. It hurt to look at her. I wanted so badly to look like her, to be her. Something in her eyes changed as she watched me. A smugness covered her expression, as I noted the little tilt in the corner of her lips.

"Your martini, uh... ma'am," the bartender stammered.

I didn't even look up at the woman when she placed the drink in front of me. Her words felt like another twist of the knife as it burrowed deeper. My head was swimming already. I could hardly stand the sight of the martini. I was practically sweating rum already. Everything was beginning to overwhelm me. I heard a burst of laughter behind me. They were laughing at me. I just knew they were. Everyone knew. My eyes flitted up to see the dark haired woman down the way still watching me from the corner of her eye.

A man took the stool beside me. The discomfort fled like fluttering moths as I tried to act normal. He was a handsome guy about my age. He was blonde, impeccably well groomed, and staring right at me. I couldn't ignore him. He was sitting right there!

"Uh, hi," I said offering him a smile.

His blue eyes studied me. "Hey."

My heartbeat was bellowing in my ears. He was going to talk with me! And he was so cute! I thought of the best teasing chat I could.

"I-I already have a drink," I stammered, "But you can buy me another one if you like."

Fuck that sounded too flirty and ridiculous. I could have melted under his crystal gaze. A million thoughts and worries zipped through my head.

"Maybe, heh, maybe another time," the blonde said. "I uh... I actually came over here because my friend Steven over there wanted me to ask you something. He's too chicken to do it himself though."

I allowed myself a grin. Brushing my hair from my eyes, I turned toward the blonde. Maybe things were looking up.

"What did your friend wanna know?" I asked with a sly smile.

The handsome man smiled and said, "Well, see, we have this friend who we owe a prank."

I felt like a rug had been jerked from under my feet.

The cute blonde continued. "This guy James spiked the punch at Steven's wedding and gave everyone the shits that night. Kind of messed up. We were wanting to top that. Steven and I were wondering if you might help us set him up. Maybe we could set up like a get together and tell him that we've got him a fine ass date. He'll shit himself if everyone sees a tranny flirting and kissing on him all night. Something like tha-"

"I'm not interested," I snapped.

The blonde leaned back. "I mean, we could pay you a lot-"

"I said I'm not interested."

I stared into my drink trying to ignore the guy's very presence. My whole face felt hot. Anger bubbled inside of me, and as the knife twisted deeper, the sickness inside of me grew. Finally, the man stood.

"You know there's a fucking queer bar a few blocks down on Second," he spat.

I was alone at the bar again. I fought really, really hard to keep the knot down in my throat. The tears were another matter. It wouldn't be long. I shot a glance at the beautiful woman in the peacock colors. There was no way she hadn't heard the exchange, but she wasn't looking my way. I still saw that smug little grin on her pretty face. My heart sank as I stared at her. I was so fucking stupid to think that good looking guy would treat me like he'd treat her. I'd never measure up to that woman.

I had to do something. I needed to get away from that bar. In seconds I had risen from my stool and was hurrying toward the restrooms. The tears were about to explode forth. I wouldn't let them see that. The faces watched me but I couldn't look at them. I knew they were laughing at me, talking about the freak in the dress and heels.

When I reached the archway where the bathrooms were located, I balked. Which one? Which one could I go to? I almost took a step toward the men's restroom, but I could feel the eyes at the booths behind me. If I went into the men's room, it'd make everything worse. But everyone knew! They fucking knew! What would they say if they saw me go into the women's room?

"That one's yours."

The girl that passed me was pointing to the sign on the men's room. I looked at her. She wore a grin and her two friends chuckled. Watching those perfect bodies saunter through the door broke my heart. I felt warm with shame and embarrassment.

I was a fool. Turning from the restrooms, I kept my head down to hide my tears behind my hair. I walked as fast as I could toward the entrance. I didn't dare look up at any of the cruel strangers that watched me leave.

Outside, I all but ran down the sidewalk. It was so cold. The people there watched me too. I didn't care. It was over. It was all over. Just as I reached my Camry in the lot behind the buildings, my ankle twisted and I collapsed to the wet pavement. My sobs were heavy now. I could hardly catch my breath. Anger and pain swirled into a volatile solution inside of me. I jerked the designer heels from my feet and with a scream, I flung them into the darkness beyond the parking lot. Once I had loved wearing them so much... that was all over now.

My dress clung to my side where I had fallen. It was wet and filthy. On cold bare feet I trotted to my car. I fumbled for my keys in my purse and through blurry eyes I found the one to the Camry. Sniffling, I jerked open the car door and fell into the seat, slamming the door shut as hard as I could.

For several seconds, I held my face in my hands with my body heaving and cried. The voices were louder than ever. My father's angry eyes and cruel words. Joey yelling. All those damn smiling faces turning and snickering.

I screamed.

It was the purest emotion I'd ever felt. Raw despair and rage blasted from my lungs. As my cry ceased, I saw the person staring back at me in the rearview mirror. His long black hair clung to his face. His eyes were red and his cheeks were streaked with black tears. He was ugly. Just a stupid guy.

I cried out louder and batted at the mirror. I tore at it until the mirror broke away from the windshield and I hurled it into the dark floorboard. My chest rose and fell. My hip throbbed. My brains were scrambled. I couldn't focus. I didn't know what to do, where to even go.

A horrible thought crossed my mind. I reached into the back seat and found the bottle. As I twisted the lid off, it tumbled out of sight. I wouldn't need it anyway. Still sobbing, I turned the bottle up and took several long pulls of the rum. I coughed and almost vomited once, but immediately put the bottle back to my lips and drank deeply. I welcomed the disgusting burn.

I tore open the little purse and found the smaller prescription bottle inside. Holding the rum between my smooth bare thighs, I clawed to pop the lid on the pills. Half of them spilled out into the car when it finally opened. I stabbed the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over. I didn't bother with the seatbelt. It wouldn't matter.

I stared down at the tiny container in my hand. There was still plenty. I sniffled, wondering if I truly had it in me to take the plummet. I didn't have it in me to do anything else.

The knock at the window startled me so badly I jumped, nearly spilling both the rum and the bottle of pills.

What? Someone was hunkered over my window, peering through the tinted glass. I was so shocked to see anyone there. There I sat, a total mess, with liquor in my lap, my skirt pulled to my hips, and pills in my hand. I didn't know what to do.

The figure knocked again, more urgently. Without thinking, I pressed the button and the window slid all the way down.

The woman. That gorgeous older woman from the bar. Her dark eyes searched my face through the drizzling rain. I was speechless. A bright smile spread on her face.

"Excuse me, sweetheart, I'm sorry to bother you but... you look like you could use a ride."

Her voice was smooth and sweet, as beautiful as a melody. Confusion swirled in my dizzy head. I remembered her face. That grin. She was just another voice, another cruel joke.

"I'm f-fine," I replied.

In a flash the woman was in the window!

Half her body was suddenly in front of me. The engine died and in another instant, she was standing outside again.

"What... what the fuck are you doing?" I cried, shocked and outraged.

I shoved open the car door and clumsily climbed out. The bottle of rum hit the pavement and rolled. The black haired woman took a few steps back with her hands up. She looked completely calm.

"Give me my fucking keys!"

I lunged at her, clawing for her hands. I knew I could overpower the woman, but I stumbled.

"What the hell are you doing! Give them back!"

The woman reacted quickly, looping her arms around mine as I flailed and jerked. Our bodies were suddenly pressed together. I wrestled to pry away from the cool fur of her long coat. I cried out and sobbed, cursing at the beautiful thief. I felt her lips against my ear.

"Shh, shh, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to hurt you," the voice whispered in my ear. "It's alright, honey, calm down, calm down, it's okay."

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bySecondCircle© 14 comments/ 13167 views/ 15 favorites

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