it took forever to get out of the house because the polycule that imports your gray market hrt from ukraine won't stop arguing about dune. you're blasting ciggies inside a cramped RV, where your friend is living, over shitty pizza and cheap beer, commiserating over the weirdest penises you've seen in your shared journey to suck enough dick to stay alive. the phone rings. it's your closest friend, the one you got on hormones. she's a short plane ride away, but she's having a bad night. a really bad night. you do your best to calm her down, and she tacitly agrees to not kill herself until you come see her. a crt tv is plugged in next to you, muted, and angry video game nerd videos are autoplaying on youtube. you make a self deprecating joke about your transition at a family wedding, the one your fake boyfriend wouldn't go to because he doesn't want to be seen in public with you. he fucks you like he really hates you, and you think that's what love is, so you're daydreaming about raising kids together. you've never been happier. you can't wait to be a mom.