“Do we have another question?” The emcee asks as I look out at the audience — a typical crowd that you’d get at a press conference, but this one is different in many ways.

Of course, the big difference is that all of the press in the crowd are wearing masks and keeping their distance from each other, even with Covid rules currently being more relaxed than they have been in over a year. There are also more reporters from smaller, independent news and entertainment websites as well as more ‘mainstream’ media like the major newspapers and the BBC. The biggest difference, though, is on our 'side' of the conference.

For the past five years, Out of Heaven has been a four-piece band. The whole ‘Constellation’ incident feels like a lifetime ago, but its effects have been keenly felt ever since, and the one thing that threatened to tear the band apart ironically ended up making the four of us stronger and closer than ever before. And in a way, it also made me stronger as a person. I became more assured in my identity as a woman, I started HRT, I began exploring new avenues opened up by my career, I made peace with Jamie, and I even had the courage to come clean to Kayla about my feelings for her. All of these things were undisputed wins… which might help to explain why I feel so uneasy at there being five of us currently on stage.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Lauren, or even resent her for leaving the band to pursue other opportunities — far from it. After all, we all have careers to pursue. But ever since the five of us sang at my birthday party last year, it’s felt like things have been on a downward spiral. I caught Covid and am still struggling with the after-effects over a year later. My solo career — if you can call it that — has stalled. I’m still undecided about SRS. And even though Kayla and I have never been stronger as a couple, I still don’t know whether I want to give her the ring that’s been in my drawers for months.

Of course, to the public and our fans, we’re the picture of unity. As far as everyone is concerned, we are what we appear to be: five young women excited to be back together again and eager to continue work on our new album (and Out of Heaven’s fifth overall). The best way to publicise an album, of course, is with a single, which is the very reason we’re all here today — even if my mind isn’t entirely engaged with the conversation.

“Yeah, I’ve got a question for Steph,” one of the reporters announces, snapping me back to attention.

“Sure,” I say with a shrug as I sit up from the slouch I’d inadvertently slid into. “Fire away.” Try to sound at least slightly enthusiastic, I mentally chastise myself. This single and this album IS going to be your main source of income for the next few months, after all….

“You’ve spoken a lot recently about your health issues,” the reporter asks. “How have they impacted the recording of the album, and will they prevent you from being able to tour with the other girls?” As always, I breathe an internal sigh of relief as this question could’ve been worse — at least it isn't about my other 'medical status.' The fact that he used the term ‘other girls’ at least is just further confirmation that after six and a half years, the message is finally getting through.

“It’s been tough, some days,” I reply. “I’ve been given loads of different treatments and exercises to do and they are helping, but it is a slow road so far.”

“As for touring,” Becca interjects, “we’ve been pretty clear that it’s either all of us or none of us.” I smile and my heart warms as all of the others — including Lauren — nod in agreement.

“One or two songs isn’t really a problem, though,” I clarify. “Just in case the organisers of the Platinum Jubilee concert are listening, heh!” Something all five of us genuinely want to perform at — Kayla in particular, as I’m reminded when we exchange a brief excited glance.

“Any other questions?” The emcee asks, and again a wave of arms is raised from the audience. “Yes, you in the orange mask?”

“This is another one for Steph,” the orange-masked reporter asks as I straighten myself in my seat. “How have your health issues impacted your plans for gender reassignment surgery?” I bite my lip, grateful for my own facemask as a hush falls over the audience — this question is obviously of a personal nature and far too personal for this type of press conference. It’s hardly the first time I’ve been asked this question, or ones like it, though, and as such, I have a ‘prepared answer’ ready.

“Next question?” I ask the emcee, triggering a chuckle from the crowd and from my bandmates, even as they look at me supportively.

“Try to keep to questions about the song and the album, please,” the emcee cautions the assembled reporters. “No need to get THAT personal.”

Despite my mask, I try not to frown as many of the hands of the audience lower, but there are still enough hands raised to pad out the Q&A session for another fifteen minutes, at the end of which five microphones are set out on the stage (with a two-metre gap between each one, of course). I allow myself a smile as I rise to my feet and smooth out my short, expensive skater dress before heading to the microphone that’s been set out for me, easily identifiable with the letters ‘S.A.’ on a label the handle — and the outline of a high heeled boot scribbled on the same label!

As the music starts to swell, I feel the familiar tingle flow through my body that I get every time I perform live. Even if my lungs (and to a lesser extent, all the other parts of my body) are compromised, I can still sing at least one song, and the adrenaline surge that accompanies the ‘tingle’ always cancels out any exhaustion or pain. The five of us take a deep breath as we prepare to sing in unison.

“Hey! You! Whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do, as the girls are coming through!”

I grin as I glance over at my bandmates while we sing — we are, indeed, what we appear: five young women who love singing and are damned good at it.

Once our performance is over, we accept the audience’s applause with playful curtsies before heading to the backstage area, where we each let out a long sigh, happy that our day of promotion for our new single is done. We’re all keenly aware, though, that there’s still plenty of work ahead of us.

“Well, that’s one down, about a billion to go,” Becca says with a snort of laughter as she stretches her lithe body. “Still enjoying being back in the band, Lauren?”

“Aye, totally!” Our flame-haired bandmate replies with a giggle. “99% of Constellation was just press conference after press conference… though I get you probably don’t want to hear about that, heh!”

“Meh, it is what it is, I guess,” Adeola says with a shrug. “No point being hung up on the past and things that might have been, not when the future and things that will be look so good, right?”

“Hell yeah!” Becca cheers. “Especially when we absolutely NAILED that performance, hehe! And you, Miss Abbott?” I bite my lip and allow myself a grin as my bandmate addresses me directly. “I don’t think I’ve heard you sounding THAT good since before the pandemic!”

“Thanks,” I say with a bashful giggle. “I suppose all the treatments and exercises were worth it, heh! Though I — I still doubt I could do a full concert, let alone a tour.”

“One step at a time,” Adeola advises. “Which is pretty easy to say when this single is gonna rake in streams by the millions!”

“Even more when we get the video shot!” Lauren cheers. “Ahh… I really have missed this, you know? Actually being in a band with friends for once. But, like you said, no point getting hung up on the past, heh! The future’s the important thing, and speaking of, Miss Ford?” I grin as Kayla, who seemed to be lost in thought, suddenly pays attention again.

“Hmm?” Kayla asks. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

“You celebrating two dozen years on this Earth, this coming Sunday?” Becca replies with a giggle. “Our very own ‘Baby Spice Angel’ really not being much of a ‘Baby’ anymore, hehe!”

“Ugh, are they really still calling us the ‘Spice Angels?’ ” Adeola asks with an understandable sneer — that nickname hasn’t been ours consistently, but often enough to remind us that we’re nothing new, just the latest ‘flavour of the month.’ Albeit one that’s stuck around for almost seven years….

“No, thank god,” Becca replies with a chuckle. “No more ‘Victoria Becca-ham’ comments on my posts anymore either.”

“And I’m certainly in no danger of being called ‘sporty’ anytime soon, either,” I snort. “Oh well. Someone else can be the first ever trans contestant on Strictly, heh.”

“And let’s be honest, I’m not much of a ‘baby’ anymore either, heh!” Kayla chuckles, earning sympathetic sighs from us and, obviously, a tight hug from me.

“Feeling a little anxious about ‘the big two-four?’ ” Lauren asks with a quiet chuckle.

“Maybe — maybe a bit,” Kayla mumbles in reply, before shooting me a quick look that says ‘I want to talk about this, but not right now’- to which I obviously nod understandingly. “It’s like, you know, when I joined the band, I’d only just finished my GCSEs a few months earlier, heh.”

“Time’s definitely flown by for all of us,” Becca muses.

“When my uncle said he was going to form a band,” Adeola says wistfully, “I genuinely never thought it would lead to — well, where we all are now, heh. Being part of the most amazing group of women ever assembled.”

“Ugh, don’t,” I complain as I feel tears start to well in my eyes. “Took AGES to get my make-up right this morning….”

“Oh please, as if you aren’t an expert on make-up,” Lauren snorts. “I even remember you teaching me a few tricks when we first lived together, right after the band formed.”

“And you are genuinely one of the most amazing women I know, Steph,” Becca says gently as my attempts to stem the flow of my tears becomes increasingly futile. “With everything you’ve been through, your mental health, your physical health, dealing with idiots like the one out there who asked about your, well, ‘parts….’ If I’d had to deal with even half of that I’d have just invested what I earned from the band and holed up somewhere for the rest of my life.”

“And given what her dad knows about money, she could easily have done that,” Adeola chuckles, making me giggle through my tears as her best friend rolls her eyes.

“He’s 72 and been retired for ages,” Becca retorts. “Though — though given what your parents do, Steph, and what they’re continuing to do… heh. You’ve literally got awesome in your DNA.”

“Kinda wish we still clapped, you know?” Adeola asks. “Every Thursday evening, for the NHS and other carers… Makes you think, like, about all the standing ovations we get, all the posters of us on bedroom walls, all the girls around the country who idolise us, but they’re, you know, the real heroes.”

“I’ll — I’ll be sure to tell my mum and dad that next time I see them, heh,” I chuckle. “And obviously, I agree with you. But we — we’re still important, you know? Sure, we don’t save lives or put out fires or anything, but we entertain, and sometimes, that’s just as important, you know? Putting smiles on people’s faces, brightening their day.”

“Absolutely,” Becca says, a warm smile clearly spreading behind her mask. “And we do it better than anyone else, right?”

“Right!” The five of us cheer, before each of us place our right hand in the middle of our ‘circle’ (taking care not to actually touch each other, of course). “Out! Of! Heaven! …For the win!”

After a final round of our now-traditional ‘virtual hugs and kisses,’ the five of us head our separate ways — though obviously, Kayla and I head together toward our taxi. A short while later, we walk through the front door of our flat — our home — where I waste no time taking off my coat and my boots before flopping down on the sofa and letting out a long sigh of relief.

“No, that’s okay, you just put your feet up for the rest of the day,” Kayla teases as she kicks off her heels and heads through to the kitchen to make a drink. “I mean, it’s not like… that’s what I’m also gonna do, hehe!”

“Damn right,” I say, echoing my girlfriend’s giggle. “Ugh, it’s been ages since we last sang live like that. I mean, even as a four-piece, let alone five.”

“Tell me about it,” Kayla chuckles, before a more serious look spreads across her face. “Are you — are you okay, though? I mean, with the performing, you’re not too-”

“Honestly, I’m okay,” I reassure my girlfriend as I interrupt her. “Like I told the others, one step at a time. Believe me, if I could wave a magic wand and get all five of us back on stage in a heartbeat, I would do just that. In front of the biggest crowd you’ve ever seen. Wearing the sexiest costumes you’ve ever seen, because — well, do I really need to explain that bit?”

“Not to me, you don’t!” Kayla giggles, before biting her lip — clearly, whatever she’s going to ask next is a LOT more sensitive. “If you — if you could, like, wave a magic wand, and make — and make yourself, like, a biological woman, with — well, with a vagina and all the other 'lady parts,' would you — would you do that?” My instincts were right, then, I think to myself as I ponder my lover’s question, though I don't have to spend much time thinking of my answer.

“…Yeah,” I reply with a shrug. “I mean, if I was happy with the body I had, I wouldn’t have taken oestrogen for the last god knows how many years, but even that can only do so much, you know?”

“Yeah, I do know a few things about oestrogen,” Kayla giggles as she sits down next to me and gently squeezes my hand. “I know that it definitely suits you, heh!”

“Yeah, I’m not arguing with that!” I giggle, before letting out another sigh. “Whether or not a vagina would, though….”

“Well, like women around the world have been saying for years: ‘your body, your choice,’ ” Kayla reminds me.

“Yeah, but I’m not the only one who’d be affected by my choice, though,” I retort, trying not to blush as Kayla averts her gaze.

“You shouldn’t let that affect your choice, though,” Kayla mumbles. “I mean, it must — you’ve just said it’s something you would do with the wave of a magic wand if you could, it must be something you’ve thought about your whole life? Those fancy latex thongs that you wear are proof of that, at least?”

“Well — yeah, kinda,” I reply with a sigh, even as I muse on the fact that I haven’t worn any of the ‘fancy latex thongs’ (as Kayla puts it) in almost a month, I’ve been so busy with work. Or rather, work has been a welcome distraction from the ongoing question of SRS. “But I — I dunno. Covid aside, I’ve finally reached a place in my life where I’m happy with what I have, you know? Even with my lungs, I still have my career, I’m living life as the woman I’ve always dreamed of being, and most of all, I have you. Why — why fret over what I don’t have when everything I have right now is great? Why — why risk it?”

“Well, first of all, you wouldn’t be ‘risking’ me if you had SRS,” Kayla replies. “I’m serious, Steph. You know I’m more than satisfied — REALLY more than satisfied — with our sex life as it is now. If things have to change ‘mechanically,’ it won’t affect us emotionally, will it?”

“Well — no, not ‘emotionally,’ ” I reply. “But I bet you never dreamed of being gay while growing up, did you?”

“I dreamed of being in love,” Kayla says firmly. “I dreamed of finding the one person I could see myself spending my whole life with. And I found HER. As for ‘gay’ or ‘straight,’ they’re just labels. ‘HMS Kayla Ford is Straight’ set sail and sank a long time ago, heh.”

“…Typical Southampton native, making a naval metaphor,” I tease, giggling as Kayla playfully swats me with her beloved Baby Yoda cushion.

“For what it’s worth,” Kayla chuckles as she cuddles Baby Yoda close to her, “I never imagined being a Star Wars fan or an obsessive gamer when I was younger, hehe!”

“Is this your way of saying ‘I’m having Deathloop withdrawal symptoms, leave me alone with the Xbox?’ “ I ask, smirking as Kayla blushes and averts her gaze.

“If it’s any consolation, it’s gonna be much worse when Forza Horizon 5 comes out, heh!” Kayla giggles. “But — yeah. Like I was telling the others, life right now? It’s VERY different than I imagined when I joined the band.”

“I bet you still imagined you’d have a successful solo album AND a number one single, though?” I tease my girlfriend, who giggles and blushes at the reminder.

“…Maybe,” Kayla mumbles, letting out another quiet giggle. “Heh, I was almost expecting — after the press conference, I mean — of being accused of being jealous of the band taking away my ‘thunder’ or whatever. Which, like, wouldn’t be totally unfair. But — yeah. I have always dreamed of having a solo career — and yes, a number one single — but the band means just as much to me. I’ll be just as happy being known as ‘Kayla from out of Heaven’ instead of ‘Kayla Ford, solo artist.’ Both is better though, heh.”

“…A bit of me did think that might have been the reason you were unhappy at the press conference, heh,” I confess.

“Meh, like I said, not unfair,” Kayla says with a shrug. “Something I have worked on, though, and want to, like, continue working on.”

“R- really?” I ask, my girlfriend’s news coming as a shock to me.

“Well — yeah,” Kayla replies bluntly. “I’m sure I’ve told you before that I see a counsellor too, right?”

“Well — yes, but I didn’t realise it was a regular thing,” I reply.

“Any reason it shouldn’t be?” Kayla asks with a shrug. “Like I said, I went only a few months between finishing my GCSEs and becoming a national celebrity. That’s a big jump for anyone, and then when you throw in Strictly as well, and all the other shows we’ve been on, you get — yeah. It’s no wonder people in our industry burn out so frequently.”

“Or resort to ‘chemical encouragement?’ ” I ask, smiling sadly as Kayla nods.

“It’s sad the number of people I know from school who’ve gone down that route,” Kayla sighs. “And who think I can ‘help’ them there, too. Heh, I rarely even drink alcohol, as you know.”

“Same here,” I sigh. “About, like, all of it. Heh, my parents had enough stories from dealing with addicts in their day jobs that they basically scared me and my brothers — well, not ‘straight,’ that’s probably the wrong word for it!”

“Definitely the wrong word for it,” Kayla giggles. “I guess on top of ‘national celebrity’ you can also add ‘LGBT icon,’ heh.”

“Well, WE can, definitely,” I say with a smile as my girlfriend blushes again.

“I’m hardly an ‘icon,’ ” Kayla mumbles. “And I — I don’t know how this will sound, but — heh. I know you’re a woman. I am consciously aware of the fact that I am in love with another woman, regardless of being trans or cis or whatever, but I — I don’t FEEL gay. Does that make any sense?”

“Kinda,” I reply. “And I know it’s more complicated for me, but I — I feel the same way. I mean, we’ve both dated guys in the past, but- yeah. I guess it’s true what they say: gay, straight or bi, it doesn’t matter, as love is simply love, and that’s all that really needs to be said about it.”

“That would make a great song, but I think Lady Gaga got there ahead of us,” Kayla says as she leans into me for a gentle hug. “I’m on the right track, baby, I was born this way….” I smile as we simply enjoy the embrace for the next few minutes, before I start getting dinner ready and Kayla winds down with some Xbox time.

Relaxing, watching TV and playing videogames makes up the rest of the evening, and while it might not be the most exciting way for two women in their early-mid-twenties to spend a Friday night, both of us are content. No, more than that — happy, even. We head to our separate beds just after 11pm after watching The Last Leg (a show the band appeared on just seven days ago) and it doesn’t take long for me to drift off to sleep.

I wake up just before 8am the following morning, and despite it being a Saturday, we still have promotional work to do later, though thankfully both interviews will be video calls the whole band can do from home. Nonetheless, I opt to get an early start, tiptoeing out of my room quietly so as not to wake my girlfriend… only to frown with confusion when I see that her bedroom door is wide open and she’s no longer in her bed. Normally, when Kayla wakes up, she puts the TV on, knowing that I can sleep through the noise, but today there’s no sound coming from the living room.

I briefly wonder if she’s gone out for coffee, only to dismiss that idea when I see that her coat is still hung on the wall, and I even wonder if she’d somehow climbed into my bed overnight without me noticing (again, as I’m a heavy sleeper) before remembering that I was alone when I woke up. With my frown deepening, I head through to the living room to see if Kayla is maybe playing on the Switch with her earphones in — an assumption that’s semi-confirmed when I see Kayla curled up on the sofa in her pyjamas listening to something on her earphones… but it’s her phone in her hand, not our Switch. And what’s most concerning of all is the fact that she has tears in her eyes.

“K- Kayla?” I ask, biting my lip as my girlfriend doesn’t hear me. “Kayla, are — are you okay?” When she doesn’t even respond to this, I lean in and give her shoulder a gentle shake, startling her and causing her to drop her phone. A brief snarl spreads across her face, before she sighs and smiles when she sees it’s me interrupting her.

“Morning,” Kayla says with a tired-sounding smile. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“It’s more the quiet that woke me up,” I chuckle. “As — as little sense as that makes, anyway. Have you started breakfast yet?”

“Umm, I was just about to,” Kayla says hastily, stuffing her phone and her earbuds into her dressing gown pocket and heading through to the kitchen area to put the kettle on.

“What — what were you watching?” I ask, following my girlfriend into our kitchen.

“Oh, nothing, just some Facebook vids,” Kayla replies with a shrug.

“Of yesterday’s performance?” I ask, knowing full well that the answer to my question is ‘no.’

“Umm, yeah,” Kayla replies, turning her face so I can’t see her blush. “Just, you know, watching….”

“Yeah,” I whisper, biting my lip as I decide how to proceed. Whatever’s got Kayla worked up is something serious, so confronting her about and especially calling her a liar will inevitably only make things worse. On the other hand, saying nothing isn’t going to make things any better….

“O- okay,” Kayla sighs, wiping her eyes and turning to face me. “It — it wasn’t our video from yesterday that I was watching.” Okay, this is news, and definitely progress that she can tell me this, I think to myself. “I was — ugh. One of — one of my old friends from school is getting married today and I — I just got a bit weepy at the video, that’s all.”

“…They got married today?” I ask, frowning with confusion. “Before 9am? What, was it a destination wedding in Dubai or somewhere like that?”

“No, it — ugh,” Kayla replies, letting out a long, frustrated moan. “I was watching a video of the hen night, from last night.”

“You- you were getting weepy over a hen night?” I ask, before smiling sympathetically. “Do you wish you could’ve gone?”

“Ah — no, not really,” Kayla replies with a snort of laughter. “I wasn’t even that close to her, though we hung out after school a few times, and she is a bit- well….”

“A bit…?” I echo.

“A bit… a bit ‘GB News’ in her opinion of LGBT people,” Kayla says, frowning as I bite my lip and try not to cry myself. "Or Fox News, or whatever."

“Yeah, I — I get the picture,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” Kayla says with a grimace. “So honestly, as far as I’m concerned, even if we weren’t together, she would be no loss at all, not being friends with her anymore, I mean. Heh, you know I talk a lot with Sarah, Nikki’s wife? She’s in the same boat as me, never talks to anyone she knew from school, even if I didn’t move around as much as she did when she was younger. And I know you hardly talk to anyone from your school either.”

“Well — very true,” I sigh. “Not that ‘Steve’ ever had many friends, but — yeah. Anyone I knew at school is either jealous of my success, or sneering at me because — well, the obvious, heh.”

“I’m pretty much the same,” Kayla sighs, before letting out an annoyed grunt. “And I know what you’re thinking, ‘so why get upset about it?’ The reason is because tomorrow, I turn 24, and out of fifteen girls who were in my form at school, eleven of them are either married or have children. Eleven. Out of fifteen. I only got a C in my Maths GCSE but even I know that puts me very much in the minority.”

“And you’re feeling a little left behind?” I ask softly.

“Who wouldn’t?” Kayla replies with a sad sigh. “And yeah, I know, 24 isn’t exactly ‘old,’ but still….”

“I was about to say,” I muse. “Given how well-off your parents are, I kinda expected you to have gone to a posh school, not one where — well….”

“Where more than half the girls are wives or mums by 24?” Kayla says with a snort. “My parents aren’t THAT well off. But — ugh, I dunno. And it’s probably just a coincidence that her wedding’s the same weekend as my birthday, even if my birthday is, like, on Wikipedia for the world to see. It still — it still makes you think, you know? Makes me wonder if, well, if I’ll ever, you know, get married….” I bite my lip as Kayla trails off — does she know about the ring in my dresser? How would she know? I’ve been really careful about hiding it, after all. Unless she has a ring of her own — she mentioned Sarah just now, and Nikki’s always been open about the fact that she found Sarah’s ring for her before buying one of her own. Is this what’s happening here? Is Kayla setting up a subtext to propose?

…Before that, though, there’s one question that needs to be asked, the most important question of all, and it’s the one question that I’m most dreading asking.

“Do you — do you want to get married?” I ask, before gripping the sofa for support as I realise exactly what I’ve just asked. While I intended the question to mean ‘do you want to get married’ in a general sense, I am the one currently in a relationship with Kayla and have been for years now, and as no one else can claim that, the accidental subtext is that I may have just proposed to my girlfriend long before I was ready to.

However, while someone else might interpret it that way, Kayla — fortunately or otherwise — doesn’t.

“I — I don’t know,” Kayla sighs. “I mean, maybe eventually, but I — I’m happy with what I have now, you know? I’m happy with WHO I have now.” I smile as Kayla gives my hand a gentle squeeze, even if her answer is a double-edged sword — sure, she says she’s happy being with me, but has she just given me a hint, a huge hint that she doesn't see us ever making our relationship 'official?'

Unsurprisingly, we eat breakfast in silence, and after clearing away our plates, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower, where I muse on our brief pre-breakfast discussion.

When it began, our relationship was something clandestine, almost taboo, and I strongly believe that both Kayla and I felt the same way. However, in an odd way, that only added to the fun of the relationship — sneaking around behind everyone’s backs, keeping a small clique of confidantes and, most importantly, not planning for or even thinking about the future. We were, in effect, two silly little girls sneaking around with each other and enjoying life to the fullest. That didn’t really change even when we went public with our relationship, but as time passed and the two of us got older, the two of us got much, much more serious about our relationship. Or at least, I did.

I don’t doubt for one second that Kayla loves me and is in love with me. If anything, being in lockdown together for nearly a year and a half has increased the love we feel for each other, and I can’t imagine for one second ever loving anyone the way I love her — or even being with anyone else full stop. I do, however, doubt that Kayla can say the same about me, and her answer to my question about marriage only fuels the fire of those doubts. Even her getting emotional at the thought of all of her classmates getting married is no relief — if there’s one thing Out of Heaven have consistently done over the last six and a half years, it’s go against the grain. The fact that I’ve been a member of the band that whole time — mental and physical health permitting — is ongoing proof of that, as is my relationship with Kayla. Though with that being said, both Becca and Adeola are currently engaged to their partners.

And as the hot water flows over my body, all I need to do is glance downwards to remind myself that there’s another question that needs to be answered — and unlike my other dilemma, I’m the only one who can answer it. Though, as I’m forced to admit to myself, I’m not the only one who’d be affected by the decision. While Kayla and I don’t have much of a sex life, what we do have is very ‘satisfying,’ even if it is very much ‘boy/girl.’ ‘Steve’ was never the manliest man in the world — standing 5’ 6”, being skinny and very ‘unendowed in a masculine sense’ meant that before becoming Stephanie, I never even entertained the prospect of a relationship with anyone. The fact that ‘Stephanie’ always hung over me as a dark secret before becoming my very not dark reality also put a crimp in any potential love life, but since becoming the real me, things have thankfully changed.

I’m not even just referring to my relationship with Kayla here, or even my prior fling with Kurt — several ‘male interest’ websites list me among the hottest women in the country, and while I outwardly play the role of the outraged feminist, inwardly, it IS flattering to be included on such lists. Of course, not everyone agrees — even among those who profess their attraction to Jamie and Kelly from the Angels, there are men who openly state they wouldn’t touch me with a bargepole… which, of course, brings me back to the difference between me and Kelly and Jamie. Namely, they’ve had SRS, while I haven’t.

Of course, I couldn’t care less what any neanderthal thinks, and I wouldn’t touch any of those men — or any men, for that matter — with a bargepole either. All that matters to me is that Kayla loves me, and whenever we’re in bed together, she’s never been anything other than satisfied despite my lack of ‘dimensions.’ But even that raises the question — as happy as she is with ‘small,’ would she be happy with nothing at all?

More to the point, would I?

I take a deep breath to try to clear my cluttered thoughts as I step out of the shower and dry my lithe body, smiling as I am at least 'anatomically female' from the navel up. The smile remains as I pull on the matching bra and thong set I’d lined up for today, followed by a warm pair of thick tights, a stretchy grey bodysuit, a black skater skirt and a warm dark red burgundy turtleneck. After fixing my make-up and putting on my favourite earrings, bracelet and necklace, I feel ready to face the world, as always — but the question remains of whether I’m ready to face Kayla.

The sound of running water from our bathroom tells me that I’m going to be waiting a while to continue our conversation — assuming, of course, that Kayla wants to continue it at all. The conversation or the relationship….

The kiss that Kayla gives me when she returns to the living room, dressed in her usual attired of a tight pink top and a black pencil skirt, does ease my anxiety a little. It serves as a reminder that all my stress about what might be is, in the bigger picture, nothing more than a total waste of energy. What I have right now IS great, after all,- though if there’s one lesson I’ve learned over the years, especially the past six years, it’s that you always regret the things you DON’T do. If only it was easier to work out which things are good and bad before committing to them….

“When are we getting our first call today, again?” Kayla asks as she pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through it again.

“2pm, from London Central Radio,” I reply. “So not exactly the biggest potential audience in the world, but publicity is publicity, I guess. Though we won’t be singing live on this one.”

“Aww,” Kayla says with a playful pout, before turning her attention back to her phone.

“Are — are you looking at the photos of the hen night again?” I ask hesitantly.

“Ah — no, not this time,” Kayla replies, before giggling and sighing. “My — my parents just texted to say they’re coming to London tomorrow. No prizes for guessing why, heh.”

“Good,” I say, smirking as the girl whose birthday is tomorrow blushes. “It’s been a while since I last saw Gary and Charlene.”

“Seems like ages even since I last saw them, heh,” Kayla chuckles. “Same goes for your parents, though your parents’ work is a lot less ‘predictable’ than my parents’. Heh, or even our work.”

“Definitely true,” I chuckle. “Though I’ll send them a text, see if they’ll be able to come round tomorrow. Tom and Danny too, I mean, you ARE basically part of the family now.” And I am definitely testing the water with THAT question, I acknowledge to myself.

“…Thanks,” Kayla says with a bashful smile. “Heh, I’ve heard a lot of people say ‘you don’t you’re missing something if you never had it to begin with,’ but — yeah. I do really wish I’d had siblings growing up. I’m just happy I have them now, heh.”

“Well, sort-of,” I retort, ‘testing the water’ even more.

“Nah, Tom and Danny are proper siblings,” Kayla says, smiling and warming my heart. “Amanda and Rachel too, obviously. Otherwise, it means that little Stephi isn’t my niece, and I’m not letting THAT happen under any circumstances!” Obviously, I let out a giggle at the mere mention of my niece and namesake, even if she is a reminder of how quickly time has passed.

“It feels like only yesterday that she was born,” I muse. “And now she’s already in reception class at school. Next year she’ll be five and starting Year one proper, heh.”

“And already the coolest kid in the school, no doubt?” Kayla teases.

“Oh, easily,” I reply with a giggle. “Even if you don’t count the coolness factor of her name, the fact that she’s in Krystie’s dance school gets her the real cool points. I do kinda worry though, you know? When she gets to secondary school and the idiots decide that her name is a ‘good reason’ to give her shit….”

“Well, there’s no way Tom will ever let THAT happen,” Kayla retorts. “You know how protective he is of her. And of Tom Junior too, despite the fact that he’s only, what?”

“Nineteen months,” I reply. “And yeah, that’s definitely true, I guess. Being a dad really was the best thing to happen to Tom. Danny too, actually. Heh, I know my parents love being grandparents too.” My smile fades when I see Kayla stealthily wipe a tear away from her eye. “…Kayla? Wh- what’s up?”

“Ah nothing,” my girlfriend replies with a tired chuckle. “Just all the — the talk earlier, of kids and becoming parents, and parents becoming grandparents, it — it kinda makes me wonder, like, if my parents are gonna be grandparents someday, that’s all.” Oops, I think to myself. Though this does raise another important question….

“Do — do you want to be a mother?” I ask in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “Someday, I mean, in the future?”

“…Maybe?” Kayla replies with a shrug. “But — but really not immediately, I mean, sure, my classmates might be having children but I’m still only 23 — well, 24 tomorrow, but same difference. I actually want to live first, you know? And besides, from what you’ve said about the hormones you take, you wouldn’t be able to, well, ‘sow the seed’ anyway?” Okay, so you are at least only thinking in terms of our relationship, I think to myself as I feel my stress start to ease off, though while Kayla isn’t 100% wrong about what she said, she’s also not 100% right, either.

“I, umm, I — I do actually have some sperm saved,” I mumble. “Frozen, I mean. From before I even started taking oestrogen. I think it’s still viable, and will be for a few more years yet.”

“…Oh,” Kayla says, taking a deep breath as she processes the news. “I mean, you must have told me this before, and multiple times, but — yeah. That question suddenly became a lot less hypothetical, heh.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I’m in any rush to become a parent,” I mumble. “Might even never be, you never know.”

“And your parents already have grandkids,” Kayla reminds me.

“Yeah, but that — that shouldn’t be your main motivation for having children,” I retort. “Heh, kinda — kinda like I need to put my own wants and needs first when deciding whether or not to have SRS.”

“…Are you still no closer to making a decision about that?” Kayla whispers. “Well, deciding to have it, I mean. It’s not like you can ‘decide’ to not have it, as that’s just, like, not doing anything, and you can always change your mind later.”

“Which I can’t do if I do have the surgery,” I continue my girlfriend’s sentence. “Unless I choose to detransition, and that’s not happening under ANY circumstances.”

“Yeah,” Kayla whispers. “But- but like you said, it has to be based on, you know, your own needs….”

“Well — yeah,” I sigh. “But it’s not like I wouldn’t completely disregard you, you know. I mean, well, us ‘experimenting’ with me wearing the gaff in bed was — yeah.” I bite my lip as Kayla grimaces at the memory of our 'experiment,' and how it left a bad taste in our mouths — literally in Kayla's case.

“Yep,” Kayla sighs sadly. “But flesh and blood would be different to sticky latex, wouldn’t it?”

“It’d also be very different to the flesh and blood that I currently have,” I reply.

“Well — yes, but that’s the point, isn’t it?” Kayla asks before sighing again. “Steph, like I’ve told you before a million times, I don’t love you because of what’s in your pants, I love you because of what’s in here.” I smile as Kayla gently places one hand on my chest. “And no, I don’t mean your boobs, great as they are.”

“I guessed,” I say, earning a giggle from the petite woman. “And thanks, glad all the mood swings from HRT were worth it, heh!”

“Well overall, you’re happier with who you are, so I’d say they were definitely worth it,” Kayla says, smiling before letting out another sad sigh. “But — but you know, at least I really, really hope you know that no matter what hormone you have in your blood or whatever you have between your legs, I’ll still love you nonetheless, right?” I bite my lip as a tear trickles down my cheek — sometimes, especially when Kayla is in one of her more ‘ambitious’ moods, it’s easy to believe that I’m ‘low priority.’

“…I do know that, but it is nice to be reminded,” I reply, before sharing a giggle and a kiss with the woman I love.

“Anytime you need a reminder, just ask,” Kayla says with a giggle. “And yes, that includes in public… well, up to a point anyway, hehe!”

“I think I know what ‘point’ you mean,” I reply, smirking as I give my girlfriend a gentle tickle. “And there’s no danger of THAT, I can assure you, heh. For however much longer I still have the ‘point,’ anyway….”

“Oh — ugh,” Kayla moans as she rolls her eyes. “Wannabe songwriter uses worst possible choice of words, heh.”

“It — it’s okay, honestly,” I say. “I just — heh.” I smirk as I take a deep breath to compose my thoughts, while Kayla looks at me with confusion. “At least this has taken your mind off the hen night video, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kayla chuckles. “Though I — I know I was overreacting there anyway, just, like, hormones and stuff. A kid is a LOT of responsibility, one both of us are far too busy for right now, and at the end of the day, a marriage is just putting down on a piece of paper what we both know anyway — that we love each other, and that’s what’s most important.”

“Absolutely,” I whisper. “I mean, okay, there’s the legal aspect of it as well, but — yeah. We’ve got the most important bit all sorted out.”

“And I’m not even 24 yet,” Kayla giggles, before smirking as she checks her phone. “And our first video call is in about half an hour, so we’d better get ready, heh!”

“Yep!” I concur, giggling as I set up my laptop on the coffee table, before musing on the fact that despite my contented feeling, my discussion with Kayla just now solved absolutely zero of my problems.

I’m still no closer to deciding whether or not I want SRS. Kayla’s reassurances to me are nothing she hasn’t said before, and despite what she said, I know the operation will end up affecting her life. It can’t not, after all. And while marriage is, as Kayla describes it, ‘putting love down on a piece of paper,’ there’s a large part of me that yearns for — for want of a better way of putting it — the formal acknowledgement that Kayla and I will be bound together forever. Though I do know consciously that there’s every chance that this will happen even if we don’t formally tie the knot, and Kayla certainly seems to want this to happen too. And even without SRS, I am undoubtedly — and legally, too, thanks to my gender recognition certificate — a successful woman.

One thing’s for certain, though, and that's that six and a half years ago I could only have dreamed of living the life that I enjoy now. Maybe, instead of pining for what I don’t have, I should focus more on wanting what I DO have….

Mere moments after logging into Zoom, Lauren, Becca and Adeola call us from their respective living rooms, and a short while later, we’re joined by our interviewer for our latest promotional spot. The interview proceeds just as all the others have over the last few days — we talk about reuniting as a five-piece group, the struggles of recording during lockdown and our plans for the future — or rather, the band’s ‘professional’ plans for the future, the interviewer having been pre-emptively cautioned against asking any questions of a personal nature. We end, as always, with a live rendition of the single, before our host calls a halt to the interview and we can get our breath back ahead of the next interview. And, as always, ‘get our breath back’ is meant in a more literal sense for me than the rest of my bandmates.

“You okay?” Kayla asks as I close the laptop and relax back into the sofa.

“Well… yeah?” I reply matter-of-factly. “Like I said yesterday, one song isn’t going to knock me out, especially if I’m sat down, heh. And singing always makes me feel better, you know that.”

“Hell, who doesn’t feel better after singing?” Kayla giggles, before giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “I just, you know, worry, that’s all. About you, not the effect it’ll have on the band, before you ask.”

“I know,” I say with a content smile. “And I never doubted it, heh.”

“And I don’t doubt you’ll be back at full strength before you know it,” Kayla says reassuringly. “But even if it takes longer than it should-”

“I know, I know,” I interrupt with a chuckle. “We prioritise ‘Stayla’ before Out of Heaven. I know I always have, heh.”

“Me too,” Kayla whispers. “But I was actually going to say ‘it doesn’t matter, as I’ll support you whatever you choose to do.’ And again, yes, the same applies for SRS.”

“I know,” I repeat myself, earning a giggle from my girlfriend. “And — heh. If it wasn’t for my lungs, I — I genuinely wish that this, this moment, would last forever.”

“So do I,” Kayla whispers, snuggling close to me as we both relax and await our next interview.

As we wait, I find myself preoccupied with Kayla’s words. She wants the moment to last forever, just as I do, and I have no reason to doubt her sincerity. It’s almost like she’s asking me, daring me even, to propose. But if she wants that to happen so badly… why doesn’t she propose to me? Relationships, and life in general, would be so much easier if you just knew what the other person was thinking. If my parents knew what I was thinking from an early age, I’d never have had to grow up as ‘Steve,’ for one thing. If I’d had the courage to come out to them when I was younger, I wouldn’t have had to grow up as ‘Steve’ either. But I didn’t. If I had the courage to propose to Kayla, I would get a definitive answer to my question. But I don’t.

The only time I have ever had the courage to act on my desires was way back at the start of 2015, when I ventured outside as ‘Stephanie’ for the first time and went to that fateful audition at Heavenly Talent. If I hadn’t… who knows what my life would be like now. I’d certainly not be living as ‘Stephanie’ full-time, and in all likelihood, no one would even know about ‘her.’ I wouldn’t be in a relationship, as the reason I never was before the band was fear that any potential girlfriend would find out about ‘Stephanie.’ I probably wouldn’t have a job either, or if I did, it’d be some crappy minimum wage job in a shop somewhere. And I definitely wouldn’t have the amazing friends that I do — especially not Kayla, who would still be part of the band, as Out of Heaven was always going to happen regardless of whether or not I was a member. I’ve always said that you only ever regret the things you don’t do, and if I hadn’t attended the audition on that day, it would easily have been the biggest regret of my life — even if I didn’t realise it.

However, I don’t need to worry about what might have been, when what is is so good right now. I just wish that I could stop myself from stressing over what could be….

After a quick lunch, Kayla and I allow ourselves the chance to relax briefly before changing our outfits and freshening up our make-up for our next interview (you can’t wear the same outfit twice in different video appearances, after all). I exchange my previous outfit for a designer playsuit in dark blue that has long batwing style sleeves with lace detailing. The playsuit is cute and stylish, sure, but it has a couple of, shall we say, 'issues.' After slipping my feet into a pair of cute ankle boots with a 4-inch stiletto heel, I head out into our hallway, hoping to address the small ‘flaw’ with my outfit.

“Kayla?” I call out. “Can you zip me up please?” I bite my lip nervously as my girlfriend emerges from her bedroom with a smile on her face, which is quickly replaced with a sigh and an unimpressed look.

“Okay, first,” Kayla groans. “Do I need to drag a chair through from the kitchen?” I grimace as I kneel down to try to even out the ten inch height advantage my boots have given me over my girlfriend. “Second, I thought you said you hated that playsuit? It was too uncomfortable, or too short in the torso or something?”

“Ehh… kinda,” I reply as my girlfriend tugs the zip on the back of the garment upwards, causing me to immediately feel the ‘discomfort’ she’s referring to. “Let’s just say that playsuits in general, and especially this one, are ‘ironic.’ ”

“ ‘Ironic?’ ” Kayla echoes.

“ ‘Ironic’ as in when you think about it, it’s men who should wear skirts, while trousers should be a female-only thing,” I state as the garment is zipped up fully and I feel the gusset of the playsuit press into me despite my ‘tuck.’

“…Ah,” Kayla says, smiling sympathetically as I rise back to my feet, which causes the playsuit to really ‘pull’ on me. “The price us girls pay to look gorgeous, eh?”

“Ugh, totally,” I grumble as I fidget my shoulders to try to get comfortable. “Never thought I’d ever get sick of bras, for one thing….”

“Yeah, that’s something Jamie and Nikki both say,” Kayla chuckles. “Spent their whole lives excited to be able to wear one, now they can’t wait to take it off at the end of the day.”

“…You regularly talk with Jamie and Nikki about bras?” I ask, smirking as Kayla sighs and rolls her eyes.

“I talk with other girls about girl stuff,” Kayla retorts. “But yeah, I do sometimes, like, get advice from girls like — well, like Jamie, Nikki….”

“Other trans girls?” I interrupt, smiling as Kayla nods.

“Things I need to be empathetic about, things where you might need some extra support,” Kayla clarifies. “Especially — well….”

“That thing that wouldn’t make wearing this playsuit an issue anymore?” I ask, smiling as my girlfriend snorts with laughter.

“Trust me, depending on how big the seam is at the crotch, it would totally still be an issue,” Kayla chuckles.

“Why d’you think I’m wearing tights?” I ask with a chuckle of my own. “The back of the thing is still trying to crawl up my arse despite them, though. And yes, yes, I know, the price we girls pay etc. etc.”

“Worth it, though,” Kayla says, grinning as she slides a hand up the leg of my playsuit and gives my backside a squeeze while giving me a gentle kiss. “Though I do definitely agree with you about the ‘irony.’ But like you — and Jamie, and Nikki and others — have always said, isn’t it more about what the clothes represent, rather than how they’re made? So why not just put a skirt on and be comfortable AND feminine at the same time?”

“Because I…“ I say, pausing as I decide how best to word my reply. There’s no point in fibbing, or beating about the bush, after all — Kayla would see right through me in an instant. “I want — I want to know whether or not I even need SRS.” I bite my lip as Kayla looks to one side, clearly carefully pondering her own reply.

“Are you — are you wearing the latex thong?” Kayla asks.

“No,” I whisper in reply. “I’m just — I’m just tucked, that’s all.”

“So how — ugh,” Kayla sighs, not in disgust but clearly out of frustration at not finding the right words.

“How is this ‘test’ any different from all the other hundreds I’ve done over the last few months?” I ask, smiling as Kayla sighs sadly and nods. “I — I dunno. It’s starting to feel, though, that if I don’t make a decision about SRS now, I never will, if that makes sense?” And not just when it comes to SRS, I think to myself as I recall the ring box hidden in my bedroom.

“I guess,” Kayla says with a shrug. “But if you want my opinion? Whatever you choose will be the right choice. Automatically, I mean, like, by default, if that makes sense?”

“Umm… kinda?” I say.

“It’s quite simple, really,” Kayla says. “You are Stephanie Abbott. Whatever you choose will be Stephanie Abbott’s choice. Therefore, whatever Stephanie Abbott chooses will be right for Stephanie Abbott.”

“…Still not 100% with you, but I think I kinda know where you’re coming from?” I reply.

“I’ll be blunter, then,” Kayla says with a devilish grin. “Stephanie Abbott is a gorgeous, girly girl regardless of whatever she has in her panties. That won’t change if she, well, if 'that' changes. Okay, to you, physically, it’ll change, and I can see how it’ll change psychologically too. But you’ll still be the same woman I fell in love with. You’ll ALWAYS be the same woman I fell in love with.”

“You are THE best girlfriend in the world,” I whisper as I give the petite blonde woman a tight, loving hug.

“Nah, I HAVE the best girlfriend in the world,” Kayla says with a bashful giggle, before once again sliding a hand under the leg of my playsuit. “For one thing, I never realised before you how soft girls’ bums were when covered in nylon, hehe!”

“Seems only fair that I return the favour,” I whisper as I slowly slide a hand up my girlfriend’s skirt, eliciting a quiet moan of pleasure from her followed by a tired sigh.

“…If we continue on like this, we’ll NEVER make it to our next interview,” Kayla informs me. “And I get the idea that you’d be okay with that, and honestly, so would I, but….”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I sigh, before a devilish grin spreads across my face. “Your bed tonight, then?”

“Can’t think of anything I want more,” Kayla replies, giggling before giving me a long, tender kiss. “Assuming your playsuit doesn’t ‘chafe’ you too much, of course.”

“Again, thank the miracles that are tights,” I chuckle as I sit down, ignoring the discomfort caused by my choice of outfit before logging into Zoom on my laptop. “They don’t just make your bum soft, heh! Did you know that the first item of women’s clothing I ever wore was a pair of my mum’s tights, when I was ten?”

“Ten?” Kayla asks. “Really?”

“They didn’t fit me, of course,” I muse. “But — yeah. I was ten. And had been thinking about what it’d be like to be a girl for a LONG time beforehand, trust me.”

“I can imagine,” Kayla sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. “But no one can claim that your dream DIDN’T come true, can they?”

“Well, no one apart from the usual moron brigade on Twitter,” I sigh.

“So… no one who matters can claim that your dream didn’t come true, then?” Kayla asks with a giggle, my reply of a gentle kiss satisfying her. We both still have wide grins on our faces when the Zoom call comes through and Becca’s face appears on our screen, who also grins after sensing our obvious happiness.

“Hey you two!” Becca giggles. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Get your mind out of our bed!” Kayla teases, eliciting a loud snort of laughter from our bandmate who, six years ago, would have reacted to the teasing with utter disdain. Now, though, I can’t imagine a world in which Becca and Adeola aren’t our best friends — a feeling that’s reinforced when the dark-skinned woman joins the call moments later.

“Hey girls!” Adeola says, her grin just as wide as any of us. “What’s up?”

“Stayla’s libido,” Becca replies, our bandmates giggling loudly as Kayla and I roll our eyes. “Heh, it’s funny how, four years ago, we’d never have imagined the two of you together, but now it’s like you’ve never been apart, you know?”

“Almost four years to the day, in fact,” I muse as my girlfriend leans in close to me.

“Where has that time gone?” Becca asks with a wistful sigh. “Feels like yesterday that I was fangirling over the Angels, begging my brother to let me tag along to one of their parties, or one of their private dance lessons….”

“Same here, but replace ‘brother’ with ‘cousin,’ ” Adeola chuckles. “I think I was still doing my A levels when they let me tag along on that ‘couples’ getaway’ to Paris they had.”

“Valentine’s Day 2014?” Becca asks, smiling as her best friend nods. “Which was, I think, the first time we actually met, or at the very least, spent any real time together?”

“And learned that we both love singing,” Adeola chuckles. “And that we both had the ambition of being in a girl band, and — well, seven and a half years later, here we are, heh!”

“Not all of us were around that whole time, though,” Lauren, who had joined the call as Adeola was speaking, says with a sad sigh. “I know you like to say, Steph, that you only regret the things you don’t do, but- yeah. Constellation SEEMED like a good idea at the time….”

“Yeah, but like my uncle put it,” Adeola retorts. “ ‘If you only ever follow the leader, you’ll never be the leader.’ Basically, a rip-off idea’s never gonna be as good as the original.”

“What does that make us, then?” Kayla asks. “I mean, we’re hardly the first girl group in the world, are we?”

“We’re the first to have a trans girl in our ranks,” I reply with a shrug. “First I know of, anyway. A trans girl AND her girlfriend.”

“A trans girl, her girlfriend and an immigrant,” Adeola reminds us.

“A trans girl, her girlfriend, an immigrant and a girl who grew up on a farm,” Lauren chuckles.

“…And I’m ‘Posh Spice Angel’ and I know I am,” Becca says with a tired chuckle.

“Nah, none of us would be here if it wasn’t for you,” Kayla says with a smile, which widens as I give her a gentle squeeze. “The group will always be more, much more than just five individual parts.”

“Says the woman who recently topped the charts all by herself!” Lauren teases, chuckling as Kayla blushes. “Though I’m hardly one to talk.”

“Heh, none of us are,” Adeola sighs. “I mean, we’re all working on solo projects of some description, right? But no matter how successful we get, we’ll always be Out of Heaven. We’ll always be a family. We’ll always be — well…”

“There for each other?” I ask, briefly leaving the sofa and returning with my acoustic guitar, before playing the opening bars of a song that everyone — especially my four friends — can instantly recognise.

“So no one told you life was gonna be this way…” Becca sings, the five of us all laughing as my four friends clap in unison.
“Your job’s a joke, you’re broke, your love life’s DOA…” Adeola continues.
“It’s like you were always stuck in second gear,” Lauren sings.

“When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, but-” Kayla sings as I take as deep a breath as my lungs will allow to join in with the chorus:

“I’ll be there for you!
When the rain starts to fall,
I’ll be there for you!
Like I’ve been there before,
I’ll be there for you!
‘Cause you’re there for me too….”

The five of us cheer after completing our ‘warm-up,’ before the notification comes through that our interviewer is ready to join the call.

Forty minutes later, the interview concludes with another group performance of our new single, before we all say our goodbyes and drop off the call one by one. Even though it’s a Saturday night and we would usually head to Charlotte’s house for a party — now that we’re allowed to again, anyway — the party itself has been postponed until tomorrow to properly coincide with Kayla’s birthday. That, combined with the fact that we also have an early morning tomorrow, results in Kayla and I spending the rest of the evening on the sofa watching 'The Hit List' (a game show that we're both fairly good at, for obvious reasons) and Strictly, before getting an early night — in the same bed, just as we’d promised each other earlier today.

I have a happy, contented smile on my face as my alarm wakes me the following morning and I still have my petite, newly 24-year-old girlfriend wrapped around me. A short while later, Kayla stirs from both the noise and my gentle kisses on her face.

“Happy birthday to you…” I whisper, unable to even sing the second line as Kayla gives me a gentle nudge and a long, deep kiss.

“…Thanks,” Kayla says with a happy giggle. “Do we really, really have to get up?”

“We’d kinda get in trouble with JB if we skipped out on a TV spot,” I remind my pouting girlfriend. “Especially a live TV one. Still, at least we’ll get free food….”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Kayla giggles, giving me one more kiss before sliding out of bed and stretching her tired body. “…Well? Coming?” I don’t need to be asked twice as I follow my girlfriend to the bathroom and start her 'gift giving' early.

Once we’re dry, the two of us head back to our bedrooms to get ready for our latest TV appearance, and as always, I can’t help but muse on the fact that not only do I spend my days wearing one fashionable outfit after another, it’s literally my job, and I both inspire and am envied by a countless number of girls worldwide. And, of course, a countless number of boys — or rather, those whose circumstances are forcing to be boys instead of the girls they truly are on the inside. It seems like every day, I get alerted to a new Out of Heaven fan who found the courage to come out to their parents, and while I’m rarely their only inspiration — more often it’s a combination of me, the Angels, Pose, Georgie Stone or any number of other trans celebrities — the knowledge that I have, in some small way, made another person’s life happier means more to me than any number one single or album ever could.

Today, though, promoting the single has to be my sole focus. It IS what I get paid the big money for, after all. As such, I take care to ensure that my look is perfect. Instead of yesterday’s playsuit, I opt for a short, tight minidress made of a matte dark red fabric with cut out shoulders. I pair the dress with a pair of dark tights — obviously, seeing as it’s October and it’s cold — and of course, a pair of over-the-knee boots with a chunky four-inch heel.

As my make-up will be done professionally at the TV studio, I only apply a light layer to my face, but I make sure to spritz myself with a cloud of perfume that isn’t my favourite, but rather Kayla’s, and which gets a smile of approval when I emerge from my room to find her already dressed and waiting.

“Hubba hubba Miss Abbott!” Kayla giggles as I do a slow twirl for her.

“Hubba hubba birthday girl!” I playfully retort as Kayla poses and shows off her tight pink top and black pencil skirt. “Did I get you that top last Christmas?”

“Nope!” Kayla replies with a giggle. “It’s actually a bodysuit, an early birthday present from me to me, hehe!”

“Me too,” I say, giggling as I gently stroke the soft fabric before giving my girlfriend a gentle kiss on her immaculately made-up lips. “Especially as I HAVE to get myself one when we get home, hehe! In red, of course.”

“Obviously, 'Miss Red Hot Cutie Stephers!' ” Kayla teases as I blush. “Though I’M the one who opens the presents today, okay? And if you do now decide to cover ‘Under the Bridge’ for your solo album, I’m claiming some of the credit, hehe!”

“Not quite my usual style of song,” I retort, earning a giggle from my girlfriend as we grab our coats and our bags and head out to the waiting taxi.

With it being a Sunday morning, the roads are quiet, meaning it takes mere minutes for the taxi to go from our Notting Hill home to (the former BBC) Television Centre in Shepherd’s Bush. Once there, as with all television appearances, things seem to go by in a blur — our hair and make-up are professionally done by the show's make-up artists, we meet up with Tim and Simon, the show’s hosts (with whom we’re well acquainted, this being our fourth appearance on this particular show), we give the producers details of the new single, and we inform them of our most and least favourite biscuits. For the record, my favourite is a chocolate hobnob, my least favourite is the inexplicably popular garibaldi (which tastes like wallpaper paste that has dead flies stuck in it), while Kayla loves pink panther wafers and hates dark chocolate digestives (or anything else with dark chocolate in it, for that matter).

As one of the hosts is also a chef (the show isn’t called ‘Sunday Brunch’ for no reason, after all), they spend some time discussing a special ‘birthday brunch’ with Kayla, before the time comes for us to head to the stage.

The next three hours are spent listening to the stories of the guests, sampling the hosts’ delicious food and, during our turn, promoting the new single. And, of course, making a fuss of the birthday girl, which includes Kayla’s special ‘birthday brunch’ of a filling, gourmet croque monsieur and a (socially distanced, of course) champagne toast. The celebrations continue even after the cameras stop rolling, with more champagne for the birthday girl and, of course, a specially made cake. All throughout, though, I can’t help but be distracted by my own thoughts.

My relationship with Kayla is now public knowledge to such a great extent that the only acknowledgement it got during today’s interview was asking how we’d been coping during lockdown, just the same as they’d have asked every other celebrity couple who appeared on their show. Most celebrity news and gossip sites only ever refer to us as a couple, even when discussing our individual projects. To our fans, it seems like the idea of Steph without Kayla and vice versa is unthinkable. And yet, it seems that the idea of us tying the knot is also unthinkable.

There was a small part of me that even considered getting down on one knee right then and there during the interview — it would have made headlines without doubt, and interest in the group would have skyrocketed, but there was always that niggling doubt at the back of my mind — the thought that Kayla could and would say ‘no.’ After all, like she said, things are so great between us, why risk ruining it?

Fortunately, I'm not alone with my thoughts for long as when we leave the studio, our lift home pulls up, with two very familiar faces in the front seat.

“Hey mum! Hey dad!” Kayla squeaks excitedly, putting her mask back on before giving her parents a gentle hug each.

I step back and smile as Kayla introduces her parents to the hosts and the other guests — it's her day, after all, the limelight rightly belongs to her. With Covid restrictions preventing us from having a proper ‘afterparty,’ though, it isn’t long before the four of us are heading back to Kayla’s parents’ car. Both Kayla and I put our goody bags from our appearance on the show in the boot, though obviously, Kayla’s goody bag is much larger than mine!

“You know you really didn’t have to give us a lift,” Kayla says. “These taxis are paid for, you could’ve just waited for us back at the flat.”

“Oh come on,” Gary chuckles. “Like we’re not going to spoil our only daughter on her big day?”

“Well, only daughter other than our de facto daughter-in-law, anyway!” Charlene chuckles as I blush — sometimes I wonder if people can actually sense what’s stressing me out and push those exact buttons, consciously or not.

“Well I — I do appreciate it, heh,” Kayla chuckles.

“Maybe wait until you see your presents first!” Gary retorts, earning an excited squeak from his daughter (his biological daughter, anyway) as we climb into his car.

“What did Steph get you?” Charlene asks Kayla as the latter and I fasten our seatbelts on the back seat.

“Umm, I don’t actually know yet,” Kayla replies with a chuckle. “We left REALLY early this morning, and I — I kinda wanted to open all the presents at once, kinda thing.” And whether or not that includes the ring I’ve got stuffed at the back of my dresser remains to be seen, I think to myself, trying not to fidget anxiously as we head back home.

The journey home is as quick as the journey to the studio was, and when we arrive, we’re not surprised to see an expensive BMW waiting on the kerb outside — nor are we surprised to see its owner and her best friend waiting for us at the entrance to our flat.

“Happy birthday!” Becca and Adeola yell simultaneously, showering Kayla with streamers as the birthday girl shrieks with excitement.

“Hi girls!” Mr. Ford says with a smile as I let everyone into the flat, while Kayla picks the streamers out of her hair. “Nice of you to come this morning!”

“Oh please, she’s our sister,” Adeola replies with a giggle. “Kayla’s family to us, always has been.”

“Lauren would be here too, but she’s busy with promotional stuff today,” Becca explains. “Plus, there’s the whole rule of six thing, and we figured you two would come up today, so — yeah, heh.”

“And we will go when the next guests come round,” Adeola says quietly. “We don’t want to risk — well, you know….”

“Better than anyone,” I whisper as my bandmate glances sympathetically toward me.

“How did you get here before us, anyway?” Kayla asks as Gary, Charlene and I carry her presents into the flat. “We didn't spend THAT long talking to Tim and Simon….”

“Let's just call it a 'birthday miracle,' ” Becca giggles.

“The taxi was originally meant to take us straight home, as you know,” Adeola explains.

“But there’s no way we WEREN’T coming here to celebrate with you in person!” Becca squeaks excitedly as she ushers the rest of us inside, where Kayla’s elaborate gift pile is just as I left it this morning, though it soon grows as me and our four guests start unpacking the large shopping bags full of gifts we brought with us into the flat.

Unsurprisingly, we spend the next hour watching Kayla unwrap her many gifts, revealing numerous delights like a new Dyson hairdryer, two new videogames, a mountain of clothes and make-up and more ‘special’ items such as a tiny clock charm for Kayla’s charm bracelet (the clock being used to signify the number ’24,’ as it’s Kayla’s 24th birthday). Kayla makes sure to thank each of us for our presents, with ‘virtual hugs and kisses’ for Becca and Adeola, hugs for her parents, and gentle kisses for my presents. As Kayla kisses me though, I get a weird sense from her — almost like she wishes there were more presents in the pile, or maybe even one she was expecting but didn’t get….

This, of course, could just be me reading too much into things, as I so often do. I could even be projecting what I want onto her. Assuming, of course, that I do want to marry Kayla. I wouldn’t have bought a ring if I didn’t want to marry Kayla, though the whole point is moot if she doesn’t want to marry me — and I so desperately want her to want that. Then again, that’s always been the story of my life.

The strongest memory I have of my childhood is wanting to be a girl. I couldn’t tell you what happened in any of the lessons I attended, but I can tell you all about the girls I envied, about their long hair, their hair accessories, their uniforms, even their shoes. Then, when I went to secondary school, the same thing happened again, only this time the girls wore (admittedly only a small amount of) make-up, their skirts were shorter, and worst of all, their bodies started to change — and so did mine, in the worst way possible. I wanted more than anything to watch my body change like theirs instead, to be able to wear make-up and simply to be beautiful like them.

Then, when I went into sixth form, those feelings just got even stronger. Girls wore shorter skirts and tighter tops that showed off their figures more, and I, like the other boys, paid attention to them. All I wanted was to be in a relationship like the vast majority of my classmates were, and by that point I didn’t even care whether that was a relationship with a girl as a boy, or with a boy as a girl. I didn’t even dare dream that I’d be in a relationship with a girl as a girl. And then, when I left sixth form with a so-so A Level in music, all I wanted was to be able to work as a musician, to be rich and respected, loved even like music idols such as Alanis Morrisette, Shania Twain or Sheryl Crow.

And then, the unthinkable happened: all of those wishes came true. It’s appropriate that I should cite Sheryl Crow as one of my musical influences, given that Stuart and I have looked into covering one of her songs for my solo project — a song that contains the lyric ‘it’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.’ And despite my anxieties about the ring and my relationship in general, despite my struggles with my physical and mental health and despite the seemingly endless trolling I get from idiots online simply for daring to be a trans woman in the public eye, my life IS damn near perfect right now. Why try to fix something that isn’t broken, when instead I can simply sit back and smell the roses?

And that’s exactly what I decide to do for the rest of the day. After Kayla tidies away her presents, the two of us change into considerably fancier clothing than we wore to the studio. Kayla squeezes into a form-fitting dark green long-sleeved dress that ends just below her knee — her long-established preferred skirt length — and matches her eyes perfectly. I, on the other hand, opt for a strapless black dress with red detailing and a cinched in waist, which makes my curves look incredible once I finally get it fully zipped up. As my dress is shorter than Kayla’s — and it is October, after all — I pair it with a pair of translucent black tights and a warm black bolero. After touching up my make-up and my nails, I give my hair a quick brush before stepping back and looking at myself in the mirror. Haters be damned: Stephanie Abbott is one damned fine looking woman!

However, of course, today doesn’t belong to me, but to the woman I love. Once we’re dressed we, along with Gary and Charlene — Becca and Adeola having gone ahead of us again — get in a taxi and are whisked to HIDE, a relatively new restaurant in Mayfair that Kayla and I both love and is also child-friendly. That latter fact is important as when we arrive, not only are all three of our bandmates already there and waiting for us, but so are my parents, my brothers and their partners and, much to mine and Kayla’s delight, our niece and nephews. Despite restrictions, I can’t not share a cuddle with my namesake niece, who has grown so much since I last saw her despite the fact that she’s still only four. And who is eagerly wearing a pair of fashionable kids’ boots, much to her parents’ chagrin and my own, as expensive as my own stilettos are.

The meal, unsurprisingly, is incredible, but what makes the night truly perfect is the company. Even though it’s Kayla’s night, it quickly dawns on me that I’m surrounded by all of the people I love most in the world. My family, including my effective in-laws, my bandmates, my soul mate. All here under one roof for the first time in nearly two years, and as I’m bidding farewell to my friends and my family (especially my nephews and niece) after the meal, I can’t help but feel emotional — and of course, Kayla immediately picks up on this [wording].

“Hey,” my girlfriend whispers as we don our coats and head out to the waiting taxi. “You okay?”

“…Yeah,” I whisper in reply. “I just — heh. First time in two years that all of my family were together, you know?”

“All of MY family, too,” Kayla retorts, before shrugging as I look over at her. “What? It’s true, your mum and dad have explicitly said so before, and you know I always wanted brothers. Even if they-”

“-They are Tom and Danny,” I say along with my girlfriend, triggering a simultaneous giggle from the both of us.

“And I absolutely love being an aunt,” Kayla giggles happily. “I take it you noticed what your namesake was wearing on her feet?”

“Not that I like spending my time staring at four-year-olds’ legs, but yes,” I reply, earning another giggle from Kayla. “I think Tom and Amanda may be a little frustrated with her, heh.”

“Really?” Kayla asks incredulously. “ ‘Cause I was talking to Amanda before we left, and they really couldn’t be prouder of little Stephi. I mean, she only started reception class last month but already she’s trying to join the school choir. Heh, like Amanda said, little girls don’t normally take after their aunts. But then again, I don’t know of any other little girl who has an aunt like you, hehe!”

“Aunts like US,” I retort as I link fingers with my girlfriend.

“Well… not really,” Kayla chuckles. “You’re her real hero, heh. Apparently little Stephi is obsessed with the Masked Singer, she thinks that every single character on there is you. ‘is that Auntie Stephie? Is that Auntie Stephie?’ Every single episode, heh.”

“Maybe I will be, next season,” I say with a giggle of my own. “I doubt Joshua will take much persuading. Or any, heh. And the performances are few and far between enough for my lungs to not be an issue. And it’ll promote the album. And frankly, it’s insulting that none of us were asked to be on the first season, heh.”

“Yeah, but we literally did Sunday Brunch less than twelve hours ago,” Kayla retorts. “And just this year alone you’ve been on The One Show twice, The Last Leg once, The Wheel, BBC Breakfast twice… am I missing anything?”

“…The GamesMaster revival, when it's broadcast,” I mumble, blushing and smiling as Kayla giggles. “And enough radio shows to release a compilation album from 2021’s appearances alone.”

“I wonder how many other 24-year-old girls from Southampton can claim to have such a famous, sexy girlfriend?” Kayla asks, giggling as she surprises me with a kiss — though I fidget as I’m suddenly reminded of an earlier conversation we had.

“Does it — does it make up for, you know, all the other girls you know from Southampton being wives and mothers?” I ask, biting my lip as, unsurprisingly, an awkward silence fills the taxi.

“…I’d rather be your girlfriend than the wife of some random knobhead,” Kayla replies. “And I include all of my exes in that category, believe me. Heh, I get on better with YOUR ex than any of mine.”

“Who, Kurt?” I ask, smiling as Kayla nods. “I’d hardly call him an ‘ex,’ we were barely together, and even then, hardly for any time. Heh, me doing a runner saw to that….”

“Do you — do you think you’d still be with him?” Kayla asks hesitantly. “I mean, if you hadn’t, like, gone on your ‘solo tour?’ ”

“Nah,” I reply without even having to think about my reply. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice enough guy, and I wish him and Natalie’s sister all the best, but — but he was always just ‘a boyfriend,’ you know? Becca and Addie set me up with him, and I was more just dating him so I could be dating someone, rather than dating him for him, as bad as that sounds.”

“Hardly,” Kayla sighs. “God knows most of my exes have, like, been in that same category. Luckily my ‘current’ very much isn’t, hehe!” I smile as Kayla and I exchange yet another kiss, which seemingly lasts up until our taxi pulls up outside our flat.

Once we’re inside, we waste no time in heading to our separate bedrooms, shedding our expensive clothes, make-up and jewellery and changing into our comfiest flannelette pyjamas, before cuddling up together on our sofa under our favourite quilt.

“Perfect way to end a Sunday,” Kayla whispers as she snuggles into my side.

“Perfect way to end a birthday?” I ask as I switch on BBC iPlayer on our TV and load up the Strictly Come Dancing results show.

“Definitely the best I’ve had so far,” Kayla replies. “Both the evening and the whole day itself, I mean. Even if it’s going to take me a while to shift all the food I ate today, heh!”

“Me too,” I chuckle. “Worth it, though.”

“Oh, totally,” Kayla concurs. “Today really, really was almost perfect.”

“ ‘…Almost?’ ” I ask, biting my lip as I ponder what Kayla thinks was missing from today — specifically, if we’re thinking about the same thing.

“Well — yeah, you know, Covid and everything,” Kayla mumbles in reply. “But don’t worry, I’m definitely — definitely over the whole anxiety thing I had yesterday, my, you know old school friends and, like, stuff.”

“Well, that’s good, at least,” I say. “So you — you’re not, like, in a rush to get, you know, married or anything, then?”

“…Are you?” Kayla asks, completely catching me off guard. I pause as I try to think of an answer. “…Steph?” I bite my lip as I ponder how to respond, but ultimately, there’s only one answer I can give.

“What I want,” I reply carefully, “is everything that I already have. Sure, life right now isn’t perfect, like you said, but I don’t — I don’t NEED anything other than what I have right here, right now.”

“Me either,” Kayla sighs happily, leading to a silence between us that should be awkward, but instead, I'm filled with a feeling of utter contentment.

“…I would prefer it if my lungs were a little better, though,” I say, earning a sad sigh from my girlfriend. “They’ll get better given enough time, though.”

“Yeah,” Kayla chuckles, before fidgeting herself, something clearly on her mind. “What — I mean, how about, you know, SRS?” And now it’s my turn to fidget, I think to myself. “Because you know, I — I really don’t have a preference. To put it as bluntly as possible, penis or vagina, as long as it’s you, it — it’s okay. I mean, sex isn’t the be all and end all of everything right?”

“Well — yeah, but sex isn’t the only reason for having the operation, you know?” I reply. “It’s about making me feel, you know, ‘complete’ in myself, making my body match my mind.”

“But do you- do you feel, like, ‘incomplete?’ ” Kayla asks.

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” I sigh. “And I guess… no, no I don’t. Not that I would feel ‘incomplete’ if I had a vagina, but I — I finally have the life I’ve dreamed of for as long as I can remember. Would it be better if I’d been born female, with flesh and blood lady parts from the start? Sure. But that hasn’t happened so there’s no point in dwelling on ‘what if.’ ”

“But you’re the one who’s always saying that you only regret the things that you DON’T do,” Kayla retorts.

“…Maybe I need to think of a better catchphrase,” I chuckle. “I spent my whole life rushing into things. Joining the band, going public as ‘Stephanie,’ ki- kissing you… I don’t have any regrets. I really don’t. Sure, I’ve made mistakes, but even they are what led me to be right here, right now. And if I had to do it all again, I — I absolutely would.”

“…But?” Kayla asks.

“Where’s the rush?” I ask. “I’m only 25, I’ve got a whole life as ‘Stephanie’ ahead of me. Maybe I’ll change my mind about SRS in the future, but even if I don’t, it doesn’t make me any less ‘me’ or any less a girl. Any less YOUR girl.”

“Damn right it doesn’t,” Kayla giggles.

“Right now, all I want to do is sit back and smell the roses,” I say with a contented sigh. “I mean, we’ve sung it, like, a million times, but heaven, it — it really is a place on Earth. Not in, like, in terms of a ‘where’ or even a ‘what,’ but of, you know, a ‘who.’ Anywhere is heaven, as long as you’re surrounded by the people you love the most.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Kayla whispers. “Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?”

“Ooh, heaven is a place on Earth,” I join in.
“They say in heaven, love comes first,
We made heaven a place on Earth,
Ooh, heaven IS a place on Earth….”

----------

FOURTEEN YEARS LATER

“God, do you remember when we were all first here?” Kayla asks as we take our seats in the fancy restaurant. “It was just after the end of Covid….”

“It was just before the end, actually,” I reply, earning a smile from my petite blonde soul mate. “And I remember it perfectly, it was your 24th birthday dinner.”

“The time has just flown by,” Kayla sighs, clearly nostalgic for the previous decade and a half.

We eventually released Re:Unity in the spring of 2022, after the final Covid lockdown ended, and as with our first four albums, it got rave reviews, big sales and streaming figures, and earned us a boatload of money even if my health issues meant that we couldn’t tour. We could, however, sing two songs for the late Queen’s platinum jubilee concert that summer, which reignited global interest in the band and ensured that albums 6 and 7 in 2026 and 2028 respectively were smash hits… as were the pan-European tour for the former and the global tour for the latter. Which were pretty exhausting even with recovered lungs, especially as it came off the back of the release of my solo album and UK tour in 2025.

Even though it was the only solo album I’ve released — so far, anyway — compared to Kayla’s four and Becca, Adeola and Lauren’s two each, it’s still a source of immense pride for me, especially as its streaming figures are still steady a full ten years later. And it’s not like I sat on my backside when not touring or recording, either. I did eventually delight my niece by appearing on (and coming second in) the Masked Singer UK in 2023… and finishing fourth in the Masked Singer US the following year. Even after all this time, people still come up to me asking for a selfie with ‘Sprite’ or, for some bizarre reason only known to the American producers, ‘Christmas Tree.’ My appearance on the 2027 Strictly Come Dancing Christmas special helped my public profile too, and even though I did miss out on the accolade of ‘first transgender celebrity on Strictly,’ I was always more than happy to represent my community on screen.

Even though the band took the occasional hiatus for us to focus on our solo projects, we never officially split up, and released our eighth album to great acclaim in 2032, along with a global tour that included numerous stops throughout the US, followed by our twentieth anniversary Greatest Hits album last summer — though with that one, we didn’t do a tour, what with all of the band members pushing forty.

…Or, in my case, being exactly forty years old as of today, hence our return to HIDE. And once again, I am surrounded by the people I love the most in the world, even if some of the faces are considerably different than they were in 2021!

“I bet you don’t remember the first time we were here?” Kayla asks the girl — or rather, the young woman — on the opposite side of me to her.

“No, I do remember,” Stephi replies. “Some of it, anyway, and obviously you won’t stop sharing the photos with me on Facebook….”

“And you couldn’t have one of these last time round,” I say, earning a smile from the eighteen-year-old as she is handed a glass of champagne by the waiter.

“And I mean ONE,” my oldest brother cautions his daughter. “It’s still a Wednesday, which means it’s a school day tomorrow.”

“I go to university, dad, not school,” Stephi reminds her father, making me smirk as Tom rolls his eyes.

“Listen to your dad, young lady,” my father — 76 years old but as health-conscious as ever — cautions my namesake, who blushes and takes one sip of her drink before placing her glass back on the table. “You want to keep that voice of yours in tip-top condition, too!”

“…Yes, granddad,” Stephi mumbles, before giggling as she takes her phone out of her handbag and takes a selfie with me, which will no doubt be shared with the million and half followers she and her angelic singing voice already have on Instagram.

“And that goes for your aunt, too,” my mum says, staring knowingly at me as I take a sip of my champagne. “ALL of your aunts.”

“Yes, auntie Sam,” Becca, Adeola and Lauren say simultaneously as their husbands and many children all giggle at their expense, even as I get a thrill at the reminder that my 'extended family' has grown so much. While there’s a part of me that does feel a pang of regret at never having children of my own — my ‘donations’ at the sperm bank having been left to expire years ago — the size of my 'extended family' is the envy of anyone. Even though, as I’m quickly reminded, it’s even bigger than the group sitting around this table.

“Why didn’t you want a big party like Auntie Jamie’s 40th?” Daniel Abbott Junior — my fourteen-year-old nephew, obviously — asks. “That night was EPIC.”

“It’s because I’d have had to babysit all of you,” Stephi snorts at her siblings and cousins, who all laugh at her expense as she rolls her eyes.

“…Wish I’d thought of that now,” I say, giggling as my eighteen-year-old namesake gives me a playful nudge. “But seriously, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my birthday than with all of my family. Biological AND extended, heh. Thank you all so much for coming, it — it means absolutely everything to me.”

“As if we wouldn’t be here?” Gary — Kayla’s father — asks with a chuckle.

“We’re surprised that none of your other famous friends are here today,” Charlene muses.

“I doubt there’d be enough room in the restaurant!” Danny chuckles, smirking as I glare at him before giggling and rolling my eyes.

“He’s not wrong,” Lauren chuckles.

“Yeah, I — I know,” I say with a happy, contented sigh. “But I do appreciate it, and I do genuinely love all of you.”

“To Steph!” Dad toasts, making me blush as the entire table raises their glasses.

Okay, so my life hasn’t been perfect. I’ve struggled with my physical health, my mental health, my professional life and, most of all, my gender identity. The fact that I had to ‘tuck’ before coming out this evening, even after twenty years of transitioning, is proof that things could always be better. And yet, I’ve never been more content with my life. When I was younger, I was always anxious about what the future might bring. But now that I’m forty, I don’t have any of the ‘midlife crisis’ feelings that people always talk about. I genuinely can’t wait to see what the future holds for me, as I know that whatever it is, I’m ready for it. Me and all of my family.

Especially the woman on my immediate left, who the world still somehow doesn’t know I married in secret in Las Vegas during our 2032 tour….