I'm Here - Phil X Reader

From Belfast To London

You walk up the godforsaken staircase up to your flat in London, pulling your suitcases up with you. You're starting to regret wearing a sweater in the blazing summer heat, but you don't need that reminder today. Not with the stress. The stress and then the sight of it would push you over the edge. You'd just moved from Belfast to London and the difference in cost of living and minimum wage were pretty ridiculous, not to mention the pain of leaving behind all your friends and family.
Friends and family, my ass.
Once you'd come out of the closet, there was no going back into it. You thought you could trust them, but sometimes people lie. Sometimes people lie and tell you they aren't queerphobic, and they genuinely believe it.
I am not scared of trans people. I just don't think they're right.
What the fuck does that mean? The question had leaked from your mouth before you felt it on your tongue.
God does not make mistakes. And because you are denying Him, we must deny you. You have two weeks and then you need to leave.
So much for your "family."
While this was an immensely disappointing event, London was the perfect place to go to transition. There's a centre for assessment, and a centre for hormone replacement therapy once you get passed. You have chosen the right town.
By the time you have your bags to your door, you're sweating like a pig. Why must there be a heat wave on moving day? You find your key you got from the landlord and unlock your door. Just as you open yours to go in, a door across the hall from you opens as well, the tenants coming out. They sound oddly familiar, but you are too eager to get your things together and hop in the shower to check who it was.