Warning: Trans Vincent
Vincent stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, the dim light casting shadows over his face. He studied the reflection as if searching for something familiar, something real, but what stared back at him felt like a ghost-unrecognizable, hollow, and foreign. His long black hair fell over his shoulders in soft waves, the same hair everyone admired, the same hair he despised.
He reached up and grabbed a handful of it, tugging hard as if he could rip it out, make it disappear. **This isn't me,** he thought. It never had been.
From the outside, Vanessa was perfect-beautiful, delicate, with a body people praised. Friends had always envied her, men had always desired her, but all of that was meaningless. None of it felt right. Inside, it felt like she was suffocating, drowning in the skin she was forced to wear. It had taken years to understand what was wrong, and even longer to admit it to herself.
**I'm Vincent,** he thought. **I've always been Vincent.** The name felt right in a way nothing else ever had, like it had been hiding there all along, waiting for him to finally say it. But how could he tell anyone? How could he explain that everything they thought they knew about him-her-was a lie? That he had never been Vanessa, the girl everyone loved and admired.
And Rody...
Vincent's chest tightened painfully at the thought of his fiancé. Rody, with his easy smile and green eyes that always seemed to brighten when he looked at him. They had been together for years, and through every moment, every shared laugh, every kiss, Vincent had felt the weight of this secret pressing down on him.
What would Rody think? Would he still love him once he knew the truth?
Vincent had tried to push those thoughts away, to convince himself that he could live like this, that he could make Rody happy as Vanessa. But it was suffocating, this lie. Every day felt like a battle just to keep going, to smile, to play the part of the woman everyone expected him to be.
But he couldn't do it anymore. He had reached his breaking point, and if he didn't tell Rody now, he felt like he might shatter completely.
The sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. Rody was home. Vincent's heart raced, panic rising in his chest as he turned away from the mirror, wiping the tears that had begun to spill down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
**You have to tell him. It's now or never.**
---
Rody was in the kitchen, rifling through the fridge, when Vincent stepped out of the bathroom. He was still wearing his work clothes-black slacks and a half-buttoned shirt, his sleeves rolled up messily, exposing his strong forearms. The sight of him made Vincent's chest tighten with a familiar ache, a longing he had tried to bury for so long. But tonight, that longing felt like a wound, raw and painful.
Rody turned when he heard Vincent approach, his usual bright smile lighting up his face. **"Hey, babe,"** he said, his voice warm. **"You hungry? I was thinking of ordering pizza-"**
**"Rody,"** Vincent interrupted, his voice trembling slightly. **"We need to talk."**
Rody's smile faltered, his brows knitting together in concern as he stepped closer to Vincent. **"What's wrong?"** he asked, his tone gentle, as if he could already sense the weight of what was coming.
Vincent's hands shook as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together. He looked away, unable to meet Rody's eyes. **"I... I don't know how to say this, but I've been lying to you,"** he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. **"I've been lying to everyone."**
