Knowing Me, Knowing You

One Of Us

Carter danced with a random group of strangers who welcomed her in the moment they saw her costume. Out of everyone at the concert, Carter was the most dressed up. Some people dressed as though they were the stereotypical disco dancers from the seventies and others dressed as though they were in ABBA, wearing replicas of some of their more famous outfits. Only Carter wore a handmade piece perfectly suited for her. And it felt nice to dress in something so tight without anyone judging her and telling her that a fat girl can't wear skin tight clothing. She was hot, and she was sexy, and everyone knew it.

"You seriously made that yourself?" Piper, one of the girls she danced with, asked.

"Yeah. I'm studying fashion design."

"That's so cool!"

"How much would it cost for you to make something for me?" Francesca, another girl from the group, questioned.

"If you're wanting me to make you something personalized, it'll cost a few hundred dollars. Depends on how much material I need. But if you want something I've already made, you can check my Etsy. It'll still be expensive though."

"Show me."

Carter helped the girls find her Etsy page and continued to dance with them to the non-ABBA disco music.

As she began to grow hot from all the jumping and dancing, she excused herself as she made her way to the bar. Since she didn't have the 21 and over bracelet on, she was only allowed to order virgin drinks and water. She was, thankfully, able to sit at the bar, and she sat next to a gentleman wearing a crop top and a leather jacket. He sipped his Rum and Coke and continuously gave Carter the side eye.

"I really like your costume," he managed to say, running his fingers through his hair.

"Thank you," she smiled before sipping her water.

The man stared at her, and she smiled hesitantly back. As she lowered her eyes to ground, her eyes fixated on his chest, noticing that it wasn't a crop top that he was wearing but instead an exposed binder. She jerked her head back up to the man, and he quirked an eyebrow.

"Is everything alright?" he questioned.

"I...uh," she mumbled as she stared at his chest again. She quickly shook her head and looked away. "I'm sorry. It's rude to stare."

The man glanced down at his chest and shrugged. "Oh, well. It's what I get for wearing it out like this. I've just always wanted to try going out in just my binder to make me feel more masculine. Men can walk around shirtless here if they want, and this is the closest I can get to it."

"Can I ask what your pronouns are?"

"Right now, I'd prefer he and him. I'm gender fluid, if you know what that is."

It was when an individual's gender fluxated as though it was on a dial, wiggling back and forth along the spectrum between male and female. Sometimes they were completely male or female, other times they were both or none or just felt like they were more one over the other.

"Yeah, I know. I'm agender."

"What are your pronouns?" he asked as he twisted the chair to face her head on.

"She and her. But my friends are using they and them as a trial to see if it feels right."

"It's always nice to have friends who are willing to let you be yourself and encourage it, isn't it?" he chuckled. "My friends did the same for me." He held up his hand which had blue, orange, and pink bracelets on it. "Whatever color is closest to my wrist represents the pronouns I want to go by. Blue for masculine, pink for feminine, and orange for they/them. Some of my friends just use they and them, and I don't mind. But for those who are curious about what I'm feeling more like, they check and know."

"They gave them to you?"

"Yeah. It helps them out, as well as me. It makes things just a little easier. Plus, it was nice, because it meant they accepted me and wanted to prove it." He rested his elbow on the counter and leaned into his hand. "How about you? What made you want to change your pronouns?"

"I don't know. Maybe just to prove that I am agender. But I mean, look at me," she chuckled humorlessly. "Every day I wear feminine clothing. I look like a woman. I don't mind be complimented in those feminine terms like beautiful, cute, pretty. I like it. It makes me feel good. But if I tend to act like a girl and dress like one, people just assume you're a girl, despite the fact that on the inside, I don't see myself as one. I'm just a person with no gender. And it's not in the way society has been telling people to 'fuck gender' or whatever, it's literally how I feel. But what does it matter what I feel if I'm nothing but a girl in everyone else's eyes, you know?"

"It matters," he stated. "No matter what, you are you. What's your name?"

"Carter."

"Carter, there is no one way to be nonbinary. It's not a cult where you have to follow the rules or else you'll be shunned. It's your life, Hon, and you are supposed to live it in whatever way makes you feel the most free and liberating. If you want to wear dresses and heels, do it. And if people tell you you're a girl, correct them. They do not know your life, you do. Only you do. If you're changing your pronouns just to stop being misgendered, I get it. But you should only change your pronouns if you want to, not because society tells you or the nonbinary community says it's easier to."

"I've been thinking about it for a while. It's something I've wanted to try but figured if everyone was going to call me a girl, it'd be pointless."

"Do you want to change your pronouns?"

"I think I do. I'm not entirely sure yet."

"Well, continue your trial period with your friends. If you want to go by they/them, do it. If you think continuing to be addressed as she/her is better suited for you, then stick with it. Seriously, there really is no one way to be nonbinary. You just have to do what feels correct for you."

While it was similar to what Regina had said in the past, even Dante, it was comforting to hear it come from a stranger's mouth. When it came to her friends, she knew they were saying it be supportive to and to tell her what she wanted to hear. The individual next to her was merely speaking the same truth he would say to any other stranger who asked the same questions. It was reassuring and relieving.

"Thank you," she said, smiling nervously at him.

"You're welcome," he nodded. Looking at the dancing crowd, he chuckled and nodded towards a group of people. "I think you're wanted back on the dancefloor."

Smiling at her new group of ABBA friends, Carter jumped up from the bar and ran over to them.

Swinging her head around, Carter was startled when she felt a finger tap her on the shoulder. Turning around, she smiled wide when she saw it was Xander.