Irhaboggle Pride (2019) Spectrum

Orange

Orange. It was not a color Peter thought very much about. And it was not a very common color either. Sure, it was the second one in the rainbow, but all things considered, it wasn't a very popular or well-liked color. It was usually left on the backburner, forgotten or ignored in favor of other colors. It was bright and loud, yes, but almost obnoxiously so. Perhaps that was why it wasn't usually anyone's favorite? Well, Peter himself had never had much of an opinion on the color. But then she appeared...

The first thing he ever noticed about her was orange. The color suited her. First and foremost, there was her hair, bright and fiery. The rest of the world might call her a redhead or a ginger, but to Peter, those words were not enough. Her hair was just too bright and beautiful to only be ginger, or some off-red. No, her hair, well and truly, was orange. Whether under sun or moon, it always shined as bright as a firebrand. Now, nothing could ever dazzle Peter as much as Clover's hair.

But orange wasn't just in her hair. It was also in her face and her smile. Her freckles and her blush, especially when she was excited or flustered, were both bright orange. And her smile was so full of life and love and sheer joy that orange felt like the only color that could describe such a cheerful, excited, energetic smile. She laughed often and always seemed in a good mood. It made her the life and center of a party, because the energy she radiated was so infectious. With a personality as bright as hers, how could anyone not take interest?

But orange wasn't only on her face. It was also in her wardrobe. She had a good sense of humor, so although she wore clothes of all colors, she had several orange pieces as well. Her favorite jacket, for example, was bright orange, the exact same shade as her hair. It was almost blinding, but he could not look away. Nor did he want to. It might've been an overload of orange, but when it was on her, it looked good. If anyone could pull off such a look, Clover was definitely it. In Peter's opinion, her fashion was impeccable!

But orange wasn't only in her wardrobe. It was in her very soul, bright and beautiful.

"Hey? Are you ok?" Those were the first words she ever said to him, when he was right in the middle of another bad day. Peter was about two months into HRT and even though the T was exactly what was helping him feel more like a man, sometimes the T was also the source of all his problems. The increased testosterone often caused things like increased mood swings and irritability.

Such was the case the day he met Clover. For some reason, he felt unreasonably frustrated. He couldn't quite explain it, but there was a restlessness burning in his blood. The entire feeling felt like the color orange: bright, loud and obnoxious. A pest that refused to go away. A brightness that refused to stop burning and blinding! It was something he could not get rid of or ignore. But then, she appeared, and suddenly, the color orange wasn't so bad anymore.

"Hey? Are you ok?" her voice had been so soft and gentle that it caught Peter off guard and his anger temporarily subsided as he tried to come up with an answer for this unexpected question.

"What? Huh? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine," he stuttered.

"Well, uhh, I'm sorry to... make assumptions like this, but... You seemed... upset," Clover bit her lip, looking embarrassed but determined. Even though she wasn't quite sure how to word what she wanted to say, she was going to do her best to say it anyway.

"Well, it wouldn't really be your business either way, would it?" Peter asked, just a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

"That's true," Clover was quick to concede. "But I guess I was just wondering if there was any way I could help?"

"Help?" Peter echoed with a scoff. For a moment, he wanted to offer up a snarky reply, but when he looked into Clover's eyes again, he was given pause. Even if Clover was being a bit pushy, it was obvious from the sincerity in her expression that she did, genuinely, only want to help.

She recognized that Peter was hurting, and she wanted to help make the pain stop.

"Well, I guess... It's just... Life stuff..." And before he knew it, Peter was confessing everything. From his difficult history in accepting the fact that he was trans, to beginning HRT, to suffering the negative side effects of HRT, to being a young adult with his entire life ahead of him, he told Clover everything. Even he was surprised at how opening he was being with a stranger, but she had a very charismatic, inviting, friendly quality that made it impossible to deny or ignore her.

"I'm a transguy," he said. "And I'm on testosterone right now. The mood swings have been hitting kinda hard lately and I really haven't been feeling like myself of late, ironic as that is," he laughed dryly, voice cracking. Irritation flashed across his face again. Man! He couldn't even laugh anymore without feeling like a fool and a weirdo! The T was supposed to help him feel more like himself than he had ever before, but now it was only doing the opposite. It was frustrating, to say the least. A cruel irony indeed!

But after he was finished unloading everything, he actually felt a bit better! Although something new was nagging at him now.

"I'm sorry I was passive aggressive earlier," he muttered.

"Oh, it's ok," Clover shrugged and laughed. "I mean, I could tell you were just having a rough day, is all."

"Well, it's still no excuse," Peter said. "Besides, I shouldn't have unloaded all that on you anyway. It's not your burden to carry, after all."

"Nonsense! Don't be silly!" Clover continued to insist. "I offered to listen, so I don't mind! And even though I'm not trans, I really am sorry you have to go through all this."

She continued to empathize with him and, after long enough, Peter began to feel better. Brighter. Like the color orange. Halfway between an angry, murky red and a bright, blinding yellow. He was now in the strange, foreign place in between. But for once, it wasn't half bad... He just continued to listen to Clover talk, offering advice if he asked and offering comfort if he didn't want the advice. She was just as good at speaking as she was at comforting and listening!

"And of course, you can always talk to me," she finished at last.

"You really mean that?" he asked, genuinely surprised by such an offer.

"Of course!" she promised. "Again, even though I may not be trans myself, and even though I am in no way a trans expert, I'm still willing to listen, and I do have trans friends I can hook you up with! This conversation won't be our last."

After Clover said that last sentence, Peter began to smile. It was the first real one he'd given in about two weeks now.

"Thank you," he said. "It really means a lot to me..." Maybe after all the misery he'd been going through these past few months, he was finally being rewarded with something good. Clover had come out of nowhere, just a stranger asking if he wanted to talk, but now it seemed like she was about to become something much more than that, and for once, he was really looking forward to it.