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Virgil knew the moment she held the lipstick between her fingers, she was doomed.
After all, there was no way to forget what she had just witnessed. The way the dark red lipstick painted her cracked lips as she leaned against the sink, staring in the mirror. It wasn’t exactly her preferred color, but the sight of it elicited something warm in her chest.
The sound of her whispering the words she, her, girl under her breath, all referring to her name, Virgil.
It was terrifying. To her knowledge, Thomas did not have the feelings she did. He identified with his birth gender, holding no wishes to be anything else.
So why? Why was it that when she pictured herself as a girl, with long hair beneath her shoulders and sideways bangs that drape a little over her eyes, something in her heart felt light?
Why was it that when she pictured the others referring to her as a girl — thinking nothing of it — she felt warm inside?
Something had to be wrong with her. There could be no other explanation.
Because sure, maybe Janus wore dresses before. Maybe Roman hadn’t been opposed to the thought of wearing traditionally feminine clothing. Maybe Patton had found the concept of makeup entertaining for a brief moment.
But that was different. They were still a man. They still fit into the one box Virgil always thought was mandatory.
Meanwhile, she did not.
She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment longer before a sudden feeling of disgust twisted into her stomach. From what she knew, Thomas didn’t have anything against transgender people. It would be silly of him to, but there were some who — despite being queer — did not support transgender people.
Still, Virgil knew Thomas might feel different about his support if he knew it was an aspect of himself that felt that way. It was nothing short of strange, and Virgil hated the realization she had come to. Some part of her wished she had never picked that stupid lipstick container up.
She hastily grabbed a tissue, wetting it with the water from the sink and furiously scrubbing the red tint off of her lips. It had stained a little, and the pit in her stomach made her worry it wouldn’t come out.
However, between a few more dampened tissues, the lipstick was gone. There was a little bit of a stain, but not anything out of the ordinary. Unless you were looking close at her, you wouldn’t be able to tell, and Virgil doubted anyone would be inspecting her lips.
She was going to forget about this.
There was no point in continuing to think about it, anyhow.
Like hell she was going to tell anyone how she felt.
Logan would understand, maybe — if he read enough books and articles about it — but Virgil didn’t want to feel like she had to be studied under a microscope. Patton was kind enough that he would at least pretend to accept her, but Virgil couldn’t stand it if he treated her differently.
Roman wouldn’t get it. Roman would be weirded out, or at best, think she was being overdramatic about something as trivial as gender.
Remus and Janus? They were out of the question. Virgil was not going to give them another thing to poke at and tease her for.
She was forgetting about this. That was final.
——
She tried to ignore it. Really, she did.
She ignored the ache in her chest when the others referred to her with the words he and him.
When evening fell, she ignored the urge to grab the lipstick from the back of the drawer in her room.
Finally, she swore to herself she would not try on the black dress Roman had one day brought into the living room, insisting it was perfect for one of his favorite theatrical performances.
Virgil eyed it the whole time he talked about it, and when Roman ended up leaving the dress in the living room, Virgil was endlessly tempted to take it and try it on, against her better judgement.
Unfortunately, she could not help herself.
The clock struck midnight, and when she poked her head down the stairs, there the dress hung. It was right where Roman left it.
Surely he wouldn’t be looking for it at midnight.
Virgil tip-toed down the stairs. She would put it on — carefully — and return it before anyone noticed.
The move was risky. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, her blood running cold as she tenderly grabbed the dress, running her fingers along the smooth fabric.
She second guessed herself, wondering if this was truly a good idea. She could walk back to her room right now and diminish any risk of the others finding out.
Doubtfully, she lifted the dress off the couch, glancing behind her shoulder. When no one appeared, she turned and silently treaded up the stairs.
The moment she held the dress in her hands, she once again knew she was doomed.
——
Virgil… liked the dress.
The black was more her color compared to the dark red lipstick. It hung loosely off her frame, fitting weird in some places. The sleeves draped off her shoulders, and despite how badly it made her cheeks burn, she did a little spin in front of the mirror in her room.
It was pretty. She found herself smiling, overcome with joy as she stared at herself in the mirror.
She wished she could present femininely like this in front of the others without them batting an eye. She wished they saw her as a—
“Virrrgiiiil!” Remus’s eccentric voice pierced the air, and her heart dropped.
Before she could say a word, the door to her room (which she had regretfully failed to lock) slammed open, and her throat dried out with panic.
“Roman’s looking for his—” He exclaimed, his eyes widening as he abruptly stilled in the doorway, “…Well damn, emo! You’re rocking that all by yourse—”
“Get out!” Virgil snapped, her eyes wide and her arms wrapped tightly around her figure, like it would do anything to hide what she was wearing, “Oh my god, get out! Now!”
“But why? You look just as cute as a rotting mummy, Virgey!” Remus cooed, just as Virgil heard Roman call from across the hall.
“Remus! Did you find it?” Roman called.
Virgil’s heart was beating so quickly in her chest she swore Remus would be able to hear it. She was going to be sick.
“Get out,” She tried to snap once more, but the words choked out towards the end of her phrase. Before she even realized tears had formed, they spilled down her cheeks, and her throat tightened.
She slammed the door shut. Remus had the decency to allow at least that much.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she clenched her teeth, blinking them back and willing them to stop. She was not going to be in tears when she returned the dress. It was humiliating enough that Remus had seen her in the thing; she didn’t need Roman to see her crying because she put on a fucking dress.
She hurriedly pulled it off, praying to whatever God existed that she wouldn’t accidentally tear it in her rush.
Wiping away her tears with her arm, she was about to hang the dress back on the hanger when she heard Roman’s voice outside her room.
“Did he know where it was?” Roman asked, presumably to Remus.
“But of course he did! He was wearing the thing like a pretty princess!” Remus said dramatically.
Virgil’s breath caught in her throat, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she struggled to hang the dress up onto the hanger. She was going to be sick. She could barely breathe. This whole thing was a fucking mistake, a horrible, horrible choice made on her part that was never worth it in the first place.
“Pretty distraught in there, though. The guy looked like he was gonna vomit all over the place ‘cause I saw him in a little dress!”
It was silent on the other end of the room. Virgil swallowed back a sob, shoving her knuckle into her mouth in a furious attempt to stifle the sound of her tears.
“Virgil?” Roman’s voice was heard on the other end of the door, “Remus is gone. It’s just me. You okay?”
“Yeah,” She forced out, and she cringed, because it was a sorry attempt at sounding okay, “Sorry. I have your dress.”
She pulled her hoodie back on over her head.
“You sound like you’ve been smoking a pack a day for three years. I don’t think you’re okay,” Roman joked.
Virgil rubbed her eyes furiously, grabbing the dress and opening the door.
“Here,” She muttered, her voice breaking all over again at the humiliation of admitting she had it, of having to give it back to him.
She was sure her eyes were all watery and red rimmed, too.
Roman blinked at the sight of her. Instead of taking the dress immediately like she desperately hoped he would, he stepped forward.
“Hey, I don’t care that you took it, if that’s what this is about,” He furrowed his eyebrows, and Virgil wanted to laugh, because that was absolutely not the only thing this was about.
“It’s fine. Just take it,” She shoved the dress further out of the crack of her door.
Roman finally complied, grabbing the dress, but his hand wavered in the doorway and the concern didn’t leave his eyes.
“…Should I get Patton?” He asked after a brief moment, and Virgil shuddered at the thought, shaking her head profusely.
“No, Roman! Look— I— I don’t want you to tell anyone,” She argued, “Don’t say a word of this to anyone. I’m sorry I took your dress, but please.”
Roman raised an eyebrow at the serious hint to her voice. Virgil knew she sounded ridiculous when a grin formed on Roman’s lips.
“Virgil, I don’t care that you want to wear a dress. I doubt anybody else cares, either,” He said lightly.
Virgil clenched onto the sides of her pants.
“It’s not about the fucking dress!” She bit out sharply, “I wish I looked like— I—”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, like she had already incriminated herself in a poor attempt to explain. Roman still appeared confused, before some kind of recognition lit up in his eyes, like he had an idea of what she meant.
“You…?” He began, but she didn’t give him a chance to say anything else.
“Just go away! Forget any of it!” Virgil grabbed ahold of the door and pushed it shut.
She expected to hear Roman again, asking her to open the door, but there was nothing but silence.
She slid down against the mattress of her bed, warm tears spilling down her cheeks.
She felt so filthy.
Every part of her wished she had never felt this way in the first place.
——
It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes since the catastrophe when Virgil heard a knock upon her bedroom door.
“Go away, Roman,” She called out, her head buried between her knees.
“May I come in?”
Virgil froze at the sound of the voice. It was deeper than Roman’s, calmer, slightly lilted.
Janus.
She could not think of a single reason why he would be here other than the fact that Remus let something spill, which would not be surprising.
“I don’t care what Remus told you. I want you to drop it and leave me alone.”
“Oh, of course. That will be the best thing to do, you’re so right,” Janus said through the door, and while Virgil knew he was being sarcastic, he sounded so very sincere.
She supposed that was his specialty.
“On the contrary,” He began once more, “Roman was the one who asked me to check on you.”
Virgil lifted her head from her knees, blinking in shock at the betrayal.
She thought Roman was at least close enough to her that he would listen to her, wouldn’t tell anyone like she asked. If anything, she would have expected him to wake Patton, but at least that would have been out of concern for her well-being.
But Janus? The act left a bitter feeling on her tongue, a horrible ache in her chest. How could Roman tell Janus something that was so obviously private?
“I’m going to come in,” Janus cleared his throat.
Virgil might have protested if she wasn’t so exhausted.
The door clicked open. When she glanced up, Janus peered down at her, closing the door behind him.
“My. Don’t you look nice? Quite presentable, really,” He commented, and Virgil rolled her eyes.
“What do you want?” She sniffled, wiping her tear stained cheeks.
“Oh, nothing at all. I only came in here for a nice visit,” He said, but he walked over and sat down on the floor next to Virgil, not meeting her eyes.
Virgil scoffed wetly, rubbing her teary eyes and hugging her knees up closer to her chest. She said nothing more for a long while, so Janus spoke up once more.
“Why are you upset?” He asked.
Virgil shrugged meekly.
“You already know. You’re just going to tell everyone tomorrow. If you don’t, Remus will. What’s the point of talking to you at all?”
“Remus won’t say anything. I’ve made sure of that,” Janus assured her.
Virgil shot him a look as if to say she did not believe him whatsoever.
“I have my ways,” He chose to say, “I certainly won’t say anything to the others, either. Talk to me, if you’d like.”
Virgil cannot think of anyone she would like to talk to about this less, except for maybe Remus.
Still… Her relationship with the others was already ruined. How could it possibly get worse by telling Janus that somehow, for some reason, she wished she was a girl?
“I… I’m not sure how to say it,” She muttered, gripping tighter onto the fabric of her pants.
Janus stayed silent, waiting for her to find the words.
“I don’t know why,” She forced out, her throat tightening again, like she was going to break out into tears again, because putting it into words might somehow be worse than being seen in a dress, “But I want… I want to be a girl?”
Her vision got blurry again, and she took in a hitched breath, wiping her eyes again.
“I hate it. I don’t understand why I have to be any different from the rest of you, but I hate it. But the thought of getting to present more femininely, the thought of being called… she, I just…”
She trailed off, sensing that her voice was about to break under the pressure of what she had just admitted. She didn’t want to sound as pathetic as she knew she must look.
“Well, I don’t think being different is as terrible as you’re making it sound. Anyhow, you’re not as different as you think.”
Virgil furrowed her eyebrows, looking over to face Janus for the first time since they talked.
“I go by things other than he too, you know. That’s partially why Roman asked me to come check on you. He said I would know what to do,” He turned to look at his gloved hand, picking off a piece of lint from it, “I’ve dressed and gone by many things. She… they… it… that doesn’t even begin to cover it. I don’t like to limit myself.”
Virgil’s world practically stopped the moment she heard that.
What…?
“You… really?” She stammered, like Janus was playing some cruel, deceitful prank on her, “And the others…?”
“I never outright told any of them. I never needed to,” He shrugged, “They understand that sometimes I dress differently. If I’m particular on a certain day, I tell whoever I encounter how to address me. No one’s had an issue with me, so I doubt anyone would have an issue with you.”
The anxiety had not fully dissipated, but something in her chest felt lighter.
“I’ll leave you be, now. But I will say, lying to yourself is not worth the heartache. Don’t be dishonest with yourself for the sake of the others,” He cleared his throat, standing up and beginning to walk towards the door.
Virgil looked up.
“Janus.”
Janus glanced back.
“…Thank you,” She muttered, burying her face back into her knees.
Janus hummed.
“You’re so not welcome,” He chuckled, turning back and leaving Virgil’s room, shutting the door behind him.
Virgil sighed. It was late. She should get to bed.
She was going to have a long needed talk with the others in the morning, after all.
——
“I… I would appreciate it if you guys could call me a girl. And use she/her pronouns when you refer to me.”
Virgil’s voice trembled as she spoke, but the words rang into the air nonetheless. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, like she couldn’t bear to look up at any of them.
Maybe Janus had been lying after all. Maybe none of them would support her, maybe she’d gone and ruined everything even more, maybe—
“Oh, kiddo, of course!” Patton was the first to break the silence, a warm smile on his face, “I’m so happy you told us. We just want you to be comfortable.”
“Yes. Thank you for informing us. If I can do anything to aid in your transition, please let me know,” Logan nodded, and while Virgil still felt a little bit like a test subject, what Logan said meant everything coming from someone like him.
Remus burst out into laughter.
“Finally, the corpse is out of the bag!” He cheered, “I was wondering why you were so emo about a piece of fabric! Might I say, you looked fabulous, Virge, all you need is some blood and guts to accessorize!”
Virgil sighed at the dramatics, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“…Virgil? Is— that still okay? Do you go by something else?” Roman asked with a tilt of his head.
Virgil swallowed. This was the first time Roman had spoken to her since the incident, and she still couldn’t decipher how he was reacting.
“Yes. Virgil’s still fine,” She nodded, and Roman actually smiled at her.
“Okay. Well, Virgil, you’re welcome to wear anything of mine you want. That dress suits you almost as well as it does me,” He told her playfully.
Virgil rolled her eyes, her cheeks burning. The others still weren’t exactly aware of what happened last night…
“Thanks, Princey,” She murmured, right about the same time Logan furrowed his eyebrows.
“Wait, what? You wore that dress Roman got yesterday?” He questioned, probably about to say something else when Janus spoke up for the first time since they’d all gathered together.
“Oh, yes, because it’s totally your business, Logan,” He drawled, “Not that you should be worried about the missing Crofter’s from the fridge.”
Logan whipped his head to the side, disregarding his previous line of questioning entirely.
“What? What are you talking about?” His eyes widened, “I just saw it this morning, what do you mean it’s gone?”
As the others began to add on, breaking out into either arguments, laughter, or scolding, Virgil caught eyes with Roman.
He offered a small smile. She smiled back, letting out a soft sigh.
It wasn’t over. Eventually, she would still need to tell Thomas, as much as she didn’t want to. Despite Remus ultimately accepting her, she doubted he could keep it a secret for very long.
Anyway, Thomas deserved to know.
She watched the others around her, listening to their voices and trying to ingrain the way this felt into her memory forever.
She never wanted to feel like she was going to lose the others again. Hopefully, this moment of acceptance would ease any future worries.
“Now, calm down, Logan, I’m sure it’ll turn up!” Patton tried to reassure him, while Janus only laughed maliciously in the background.
Virgil smiled.
She didn’t think anything would change now, really. It was hard to believe she had been so terrified only a few moments ago.
She had come out.
And despite how she feared it would, the world didn’t end.