Her Helping Hand. (W|W, INTERSEX.)

3.

Dylan in the MM.

Dylan:

"Big day, Dylan. It's a big day." I whispered to myself as I finished the last of my makeup. Today I settled for a silk green button down and a pair of black slacks that held my curves. I slipped on my matching green heels and grabbed my Telfar and my faux mink coat, slipping it over my shoulders. I slipped on my wide framed shades and walked to my cab, slipping into the backseat.

Drinks tonight? - Stacy Shaw

I rolled my eyes, my eyes pricking at the memory of the three white women gossiping about me moments after I left the restaurant. It's always been hard making friends. Middle school and high school were hell. I was always deeply enthralled in my books, Robert Kiyosaki being one of my favorites.

Why are you reading business novels in the eighth grade? Get a grip.

Even the teachers would poke fun. Mother told me it was because they were air brained and had no common interest in living a successful life.

Little did mother know I wanted nothing more than to read the twilight series, but she never allowed it. She thought it would pollute my brain. All that space for knowledge, and I wanted to pollute it with sparkling vampires.

Pitiful, right?

Too bad I found a loophole. As one of the first in my class to have my own computer, I dug and dug to find at least one chapter of the series, but instead found the alternate fan versions that continued to corrupt my mind at the tender age of thirteen.

And she thought the novel would do that, but instead it was the countless erotica I became addicted to reading every single night from age thirteen to seventeen when I got caught. She went through my kindle and my journal, telling me that my sister had a concern about the material I was reading.

She was only seven.

I got beat so severely by both of my parents that I didn't even dare touch my kindle ever again. To this day, I don't read anything that has nothing to do with my success. My living room shelf was filled with different works and pieces about self-discipline and how to be successful in this world.

It worked..right?

I think I'll pass. Rain check.- Sent to: Stacy Shaw.

The clinic wasn't too far off from my neighborhood. Manhattan was filled with many homeless prevention clinics and it made my heart swell knowing that I would be apart of that category. I couldn't wait to see my office and to decorate.

It's always been my dream to have my own office.

I stepped out of the cab and smoothed down my blouse before walking into the building, the security guard immediately asking for identification. I obeyed, showing my badge along with my ID before stepping into the elevator.

I exhaled as I watched it count to the fourth floor. I stepped out and watched as the different nurses and social workers scurried around. I smiled at the sight before walking down the hallway to the supervisors office.

"Good morning." I breathed, watching as his large blue eyes travelled up my body to meet my aggravated brown ones. He cleared his throat and stood, the tall white man placing his hand in front of me.

"You must be Ms. Williams, my new partner in crime. Pleasure to meet you." He grinned. I shook his sweaty hand and smiled sheepishly as I wiped it on the back of my pants as he walked around his desk.

"I'm Ronald Ricky. I'm sure you're already up to date with your paperwork. Mr. Robinson had nothing but kind words."

"Yes." I nodded as we walked to my office. I smiled at the sight of my name engraved in gold before opening the door, the neat space just ready for my personal touches.