DYLAN
There are so many things going on in my head right now. I keep replaying the scene from last night. Baz and me, up in the ramparts. The way he touched my face. The way I wanted him to keep going. And the fear. The disappointment. The suspicion. What if he only reached out like that because he no longer sees me as a guy? Was it a mistake to tell him? He was bound to find out eventually. The dude insists on being by my side all day. There's no way he wouldn't find out at some point. The small voice in the back of my head says "what if he's gay too, and he doesn't care that I'm trans?" But the doubt is way louder than that voice is.
When I first came out I tried a few different names to see what I liked going by. One of the names I tried was Nick. I liked the name Nick. It felt good to be called Nick. Then one of the guys at school started calling me "Dickless Nicholas".
I feel something on my face and reach up to brush it away. My hand comes back wet and I realize that I'm crying. Suddenly I can't breathe. I'm panicking. What if this isn't a fresh start? What if the same shit happens here? Then what?
And Baz. Baz. I keep thinking about him. I can't stop thinking about him. His cold hands. His beautiful music. The way he knits his eyebrows together when he plays his violin. Baz was my first friend at Watford. Baz was my first magician friend. What if he touched me because he doesn't see me as a boy? What if he touched me because he knows I'm trans but doesn't care?