Episode 4

That guy!! Who does he think he is talking to me like that? On top of that, he had the audacity to touch me, bold! I hate people like that, who think too highly of themselves, who want to be the center of attention, I hate!

And I wasn’t even staring at him while he danced. He’s imagining things!

I don’t even like that style of music. The way he was dancing, shaking that round butt, putting his finger in that full, red mouth, the way he was sweating, and the drops of sweat sliding down his abdomen until they disappeared into the waistband of his pants.

I felt nothing when he came close; in fact, I felt uncomfortable when he traced his finger on my stomach and started to rise, looking at me with that face and grinning slightly. When he got really close, I could feel the minty breath coming from him, and his warm breath made me feel ill. That’s why I started breathing fast; it was out of anxiety, anxious for him to move away from me.

I’m straight, and I like women, and that’s not going to change because of that flashy guy. I’ll never have to look at that unbearable and vulgar guy again. I want distance from people like that. Going to that club was the worst idea I’ve had in recent days.

Though the night wasn’t only bad for me; Renan got into a lot of trouble too, but he can tell that story himself.

Pov Renan

This is me. My name is Renan, I’m 26 years old, and I’m a trans man. But I’m not just that, despite what many may think; I love playing volleyball, reading, watching horror series, I’m studying veterinary medicine, I love animals, and I’m passionate about life in the countryside. I’m more than just a trans man.

I haven’t had many relationships in my life; my only real girlfriend was Barbara. She was my first love, my first kiss, my first time, and my first girlfriend. I thought I would spend the rest of my life with her, but I was wrong. She left me during the most important and difficult time in my life. If it weren’t for Dona Nelia, my mother, Seu Rodolfo, my father, and my best friend, Bernardo, I wouldn’t have gotten through it.

But even after getting over the love I felt and the void she left, I still carried a lot of her with me. Unfortunately, not everything she left was good; I learned many things from her, and I grew a lot during the time we were together, but the breakup left its mark.

I have a lot of insecurity about people, whether they really accept me. I don’t want to feel the pain of rejection again; I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, and I don’t want to hear that it’s hard to be with someone like me, or how complicated it is to date a trans person. So, casual sex became the way I found to avoid being alone without forming real connections. Some girls are into it, others want to experiment. In the end, no one is obligated to anyone. I’m fine with that; I feel secure, I feel comfortable.

I went out with the clueless Bernardo to see if he could find someone, because it’s becoming unbearable to be around him. I took him to the gay club for two reasons: first, I don't like regular clubs because of the risk of someone mistaking me for something I'm not, and I want to avoid that. Second, maybe Be needs to try new things; perhaps his disinterest isn’t about sex but about gender. Who knows, maybe there’s a guy here who catches his eye; I might as well give it a shot.

I was chilling at the bar, laughing my head off at Be, who was drooling over some guy dancing on the floor. It seemed I was right; the guy wasn’t even blinking, completely focused on the younger guy’s backside. There was a girl dancing with him; she was a petite blonde, not skinny, but you couldn’t really call her fat either. She had long hair, one of those girls who often gets overlooked in a club for not having a killer body or a striking face.

I redirected my attention to Be and saw him heading toward the dance floor. I thought he was going to approach the guy; I felt like a fan when my team’s player is about to take a penalty kick, my heart raced, and I practically yelled in my head for a goal.

But he stopped, and I looked ahead at the girl who had been dancing on the floor; she was now standing still, looking at me. Before I could say anything, she pushed me against the bar and kissed me.

What a kiss! She kissed like no one else. The kiss started softly, but as I responded, she intensified it, biting my lip, sucking and nibbling. Man, it was incredible; she kissed me with a thirst as if she had been waiting for that kiss for many lifetimes. Occasionally, she would pull back, allowing me to breathe, her hands roving all over my body, squeezing, scratching, and biting. I wasn't thinking anymore; I just wanted to continue that delicious kiss for the rest of my life.

But, as is cliche in every story, it was too good to be true. I saw her hand moving in front of my body, searching for something, and that's when I realized she truly thought I was a heterosexual man. Hell, not again. I pushed her away, though she was reluctant to break the kiss.

— Hey, wait, you know I'm trans, right?

I knew she had no idea; I just tried to be as natural as possible so as not to scare her. But unfortunately, her expression changed in an instant, and then she started hitting me and screaming like a lunatic.

— You idiot! You shouldn't have done that to me! How could you—how could you do this!?

— Hey, hold on! It was you who came at me kissing, remember? I didn't do anything! Don't blame me; come on, you’re in a gay club. Didn't it cross your mind that this could happen, genius?

— Ugh, I hate you! I hate you, you idiot!

She stormed off, dragging the guy she had been talking to with Be, leaving us both looking stupid amid the party. The vibe was gone, so we decided to leave. We got rejected and insulted all in one night; it really wasn't our day.

I dropped Be off at his place and headed to my apartment. I took a shower and lay down to sleep, but the taste of that little one was still in my mouth, her scent lingering on me—a sweet vanilla fragrance. It was hard to sleep, but it will pass; I’ll forget soon enough. It should be easy since the chance of running into her again in this huge city is almost zero.

Unless, perhaps, the saying is true: "You attract what you fear the most."

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