Sam reached over and squeezed his hand. “That’s the culture, kid. Not the parades or the memes. That right there.”
Eli laughed—a real one, surprising himself. “Yeah. I tried explaining top surgery to a cis gay guy last week. He asked if I was ‘sure I couldn’t just do a push-up bra.’”
Eli watched Sam scan the room. They didn’t gravitate toward the loud laughter or the glittery posters. Instead, their eyes landed on Eli’s jacket—specifically, the small flag patch: blue, pink, white.
“Yeah,” Eli said. “Good loud. Just… a lot.”
Tonight was different. A new person hovered by the door: older, maybe thirty, with silver rings on every finger and a patchwork skirt over work boots. Their name tag read Sam, they/them . Shemale Fuck Girl Tube
“Newbie alert,” Kai whispered. “Think they’re lost?”
Sam walked over. “Mind if I sit?”
When the group ended, Kai invited them both to pizza. Eli looked at Sam. Sam shrugged.
For a while, neither spoke. Then Sam nodded toward the group. “It’s loud in here.” Sam reached over and squeezed his hand
“I get it.” Sam pulled out a worn notebook, pages soft as fabric. “I used to run a trans-specific meetup across town. It folded during the pandemic. Now I’m just… drifting through these spaces, trying to find my people again.”
“All” was doing a lot of work, he thought. He’d been coming for three months, ever since moving to the city. The others were nice. Marisol, the facilitator, used his name without stumbling. Kai, a gay guy his age, always saved him a seat. But Eli felt like a guest in someone else’s home. Conversations swirled around coming-out stories, first crushes, and drag race marathons. Eli’s own story—of binding his chest in a dorm bathroom, of his father’s silence, of the slow, terrifying joy of testosterone—felt too heavy for the snack table.