Dream SMP and Other MCYT Oneshots

She- DreamNotFound

Transgender Dream (male to female) but make it the 1800s
TW: public embarrassment, transphobia

"Drista...I can't do this."

Drista held a hand up to her older sister's face. "You can, Dream. I know you can."

Dream wasn't a dancer. She wasn't a partygoer. And she certainly wasn't a statement-maker. Yet somehow, Drista had convinced her that now was the time to show the world who she really was.

"They'll all make fun of me," Dream mumbled. "How will George look me in the eyes ever again? Knowing his best friend is someone like me..."

Drista tightened the ribbon of Dream's corset and she jumped.

"If he is a true friend, he will love you for who you are. You don't deserve to hide."

Drista was the only one who knew who Dream really was. She knew of her love of sparkling gowns and beautiful headpieces and makeup. She knew of her admiration of other women, praying that she could one day be as respected as they were, to be considered a 'real woman.' She knew she was born to shine.

"Look in that mirror," Drista said. "Do you know what I see?"

"A twenty-one-year-old who has yet to marry, and who will surely never find a match after tonight."

Dream raised her arms up as she spoke, allowing Drista to slip on one of the dresses she had snuck for her.

"I see you."

"Me?" Dream asked.

"This is who you really are. This is who I see whenever I watch you hide away. This shouldn't have to hide anymore."

Dream took a deep breath. She stared at her reflection. The best and worst side of her that she both loved and hated.

"It won't," Dream insisted. "They will remember tonight."

***

George was a dancer. A partygoer, one might say. And he certainly made a statement.

He made a statement with each ladies' hand he so gracefully kissed. Twenty-four, and he was already on his way to earn himself a good reputation, to charm a good wife. What a stellar young man.

These women were great, of course. George was surrounded by beauty. Still, despite being so surrounded, despite touching the hands and shoulders of so many distinguished girls as they danced, he felt alone. He was waiting for someone to arrive. His best friend. After all, he was nothing without Dream.

Maybe that was the man's one fatal flaw, that he constantly had that awkward one attached to him. Still, somehow he'd managed to earn the affection of many ladies.

None had brought him satisfaction. None were 'the one.'

This particular ball was like any other. George arrived, not early, not late, but perfectly on time.

The young man had just introduced himself to a group of young women who were new to the marital season, when he recognized the time. It was approximately an hour ago that the ball officially began. George made sure to keep track of such things, as his best friend was, as usual, an hour late. Fashionably late, of course, although tonight George had no clue the fashion that Dream would be bringing to the ball.

He recognized Drista first, a young girl who was yet to be involved in the marital season. An unfamiliar woman walked behind her, head low and feather fan hiding her face.

She was nervous, terribly so, as she walked behind her sister. An hour late, as per usual. There was no turning back now, there were already eyes on her.