“Bryan, where’s Martin?” Wendy said as he entered. They twins hugged one another.

“I can’t stay long. We broke up.”

“Really? W–?” Marisol said, also giving her brother-in-law a hug.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Bro.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it. We disagreed about something and neither of us were willing to change our positions. It was a mutual understanding that we’d grown apart.”

“You were together for five years.”

“I’ve said all I’m going to say,” he got up and gave his twin sister and her partner a hug. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

“What’s with him lately?” Marisol said.

“I have no idea,” his sister said. “It’s very weird not knowing what he’s thinking. We used to be in perfect sync.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. You didn’t know me before. Bryan and Edward were each other’s shadows. People called us Bry-n-eddy. We would finish each other’s sentences, dress the same. We didn’t start having separate personalities until high school when Bryan figured out he wanted to date men and I didn’t.”

“Did you know about yourself at the time?”

“No, I didn’t figure out I was a woman until I was twenty-four. Bryan laughed when I told him. Said it made sense that he was gay since after I transitioned, I’d be gay too.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“That’s Bryan. He felt funny being gay when I wasn’t. Edward was dating a woman named Carly when Bryan came out. We actually went on a couple double dates: Carly and myself and his first long-term partner, Alejandro. Good times.”

“You often say that about Carly. What happened to you two?”

Wendy laughed. “We grew apart. I feel so stupid. What Bryan just said. I said the same thing to Bryan at the time. I didn’t want to talk about it. And he never pressed me about it. It took a year to tell him Carly wanted to explore a threesome and I just wasn’t into it.”

“Really?”

“I haven’t really told you much about Carly, have I?”

“She’s only a name and a face in some old photos. I told you I don’t care about your past lovers, especially the ones from before you transitioned.”

“Carly was important. I was Edward when we met. We’d been dating for a while when she asked me to play dress up with her. She wanted to know what I’d look like in drag. ‘You have such a pretty face,’ she would say.”

“She was right.”

“The first time, it felt weird in a way I hadn’t anticipated. She loved how I looked. I felt really good about myself when we would go out together as women and come home to have sex. She encouraged me to do this because the sex was amazing.

“Everything was fine until she thought it would be fun to try a threesome. She said she knew a guy who wouldn’t mind me being a guy in a dress. I wanted no part of it. I only wanted to share her bed. Eventually, she started complaining I was spending too much time as a woman. When I told her it was the first time I’d felt right about myself in years, she became distant and we broke up not long after that. I heard years later she had a habit of getting her boyfriends to do drag and then a threesome. But for me, it unlocked something.

“When I told Bryan I was now Wendy, he was confused. To this day, I don’t know if he’s really accepted that his brother is his sister. But he never questioned it, never said I was wrong, and I can’t remember him ever using the wrong pronouns on me after I told him I’d be living as Wendy from then on.”

“He helped pay for your surgeries?”

“It’s great having a rich twin. When I told him I wanted to transition but didn’t think I could afford to on a teacher’s salary, he just said, ‘How much do you need?’”

* * *

Marisol was surprised when she saw who was entering her apartment. Martin wasn’t in costume. She rushed to intercept him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry Marisol. I didn’t know you guys were throwing a Halloween party today. Jane Russel?”

“Got it in one,” she said giving her long, red sequined dress with high slide slit and plunging neckline a twirl.

“I would have came a different day if I’d known about the party. But, I need to speak to Wendy urgently.”

“She’s in the kitchen. Is this about Bryan?”

“Yes. But it isn’t about me. It’s about Wendy.”

“What does that mean?” she said as she followed Martin into the kitchen.

Wendy wore the same dress Marisol did. She looked exactly like Marilyn Monroe from Gentlemen Prefer Blonds.

“Who are you supposed to be, Martin?” Wendy said with soft, lilting voice.

“I didn’t know there was a party. I figured you’d have it next week. I hope I’m not too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you seen Bryan recently?”

“It’s been about a month. I thought he was broken up over you two breaking up.”

“Don’t remind me. He’s gone nuts.”

“Don’t be like that,” Marisol said.

“Don’t make me kick you out in this dress.”

Martin held his hands up in self-defense. “I don’t know what he told you. But he… fuck. I’m too late.”

Another Wendy walked into the kitchen.

“Bryan?” Marisol said.

“Obviously, I’m Wendy.” He was wearing makeup exactly how Wendy did her makeup. The dress he wore was a copy of one of her favorite dresses. One could believe he either had expensive breasts forms on or he’d had a boob job.

“What are you doing, Bryan?” Wendy said, her face cycling through an array of emotions.

“I’m going to leave,” Martin said. “I’ve met my quota for his insanity.”

“Martin, don’t be like that.”

“Shut up, Bryan. This isn’t funny.”

“It isn’t supposed to be funny.”

Wendy left the room in tears.

“Get the fuck out of here, Bryan,” Marisol yelled.

“What did I do?”

“Get out!”

Martin was waiting for him when he reached the street.

“Don’t tell me you told me so.”

“But I did, Bryan. Take off that wig. You need help.”

“They’re hair extensions. And I need to understand. I don’t understand.”

“And this was going to give you clarity?”

“Explain what I did wrong, Martin. For old times’ sake.”

A car arrived and Martin got in. “Get in. I don’t want you confusing people by standing outside their apartment building.”

“I have to call it in that there are two passengers,” the gig driver said.

“Yes, yes, fine,” Martin said. “Bryan, dressing like your sister is not going to help you understand why she’s no longer – sorry, not no longer – it won’t help you understand why she was never your brother.”

“Right. That’s what they say.”

“They say it because that’s the truth. That’s the reality. Your twin was always your sister. You thinking you can just wear her stuff and claim to be just like her is insulting. I can’t believe you chose a party to be the place you showed her whatever the fuck you think you were showing her.”

“We’re still the same.”

“You were never the same.”

“We were always the same. Identical twins. You know it took me years to admit to her I was gay. She was never gay. Except, now she was always gay because she was always a woman and always a lesbian. I don’t know how to deal with that. Edward was straight.”

“Don’t dead name her.”

“I don’t know how else to talk about this.”

“Are you mad that she, somehow, stole your thunder? You were the gay twin and that was you being different. But then she’s not only gay but trans too?”

“No.”

“I think that’s it. You’re jealous that she became more unique. No one calls you two identical twins any more. This outfit is your way to be identical again.”

“That’s not…” Bryan’s voice was very soft. The driver even leaned back to hear better. “That’s not it at all. Being identical isn’t supposed to hurt her. It’s for me.”

“For you?”

“I don’t make sense without my twin.”

“That’s not how it works. Twins are separate people. Even conjoined twins are separate people. What does it matter if your twin is your sister? All your memories of being together are unchanged.”

“Aren’t they? We were always in sync. You never knew her before. You never knew me in my teens. We were Bry-n-Eddy. Not Bryan and Eddy. Bry-n-Eddy. We were one person. I feel lost without… her.”

“Bryan, I’m not your therapist. I don’t know what to tell you. But teenage you doesn’t exist any more, except in your head and in the memories of those who knew you. You’re thirty-six. You’re childhood is now less than half your life.”

“My therapist said that once.”

“Aging happens. Change happens. It kills me to see you falling apart. But I can’t help you with this. And you pushed me away. When you have your head on straight, maybe we can talk again.”

The car stopped. “We’re here.”

Martin took out his phone and spoke to the driver. “Are you still on duty? I’ll make a drive request so you can take Bryan home.”

“I don’t need charity.”

“Shut the fuck up and accept the ride.”

“Make the request now,” the driver said. “There. I got it. Woah, that’s an expensive neighborhood.”

“I’d tell you not to do anything stupid, Bryan. But that ship has sailed.”

“Thanks for listening, Martin. I love you.”

“You don’t know who the fuck you are. Figure that out before telling someone you love them.” He closed the door and the car pulled away.

“He your friend?” The driver asked Bryan.

“Ex.”

“That’s one understanding ex. What is your problem?”

“I’m a man and my identical twin isn’t a man.”

“I got that part. Why does it matter?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be in your car.”

“Fair enough. Can I ask a personal question?”

Bryan nodded, dabbing away some tears.

“Are those breast implants?”

* * *

“It’s getting worse,” Marisol said.

“You saw Bryan?”

“I had to explain to David that he didn’t see my wife in a club Friday night.”

“What was your boss doing in a club?”

“He’s dating someone half his age. She likes to party all night on Fridays so she drags him to clubs. I get to hear him complain about the hangovers and back pain every Monday.”

“Didn’t he make a New Year’s resolution at our New Year’s party last month to not go drinking all night?”

“Yes.”

“Was Bryan with anyone?”

“David said you were dressed to kill and dancing with some guy.”

“Dressed to kill?”

“He snapped a pic.” Marisol took out her phone and sent Wendy a text that she had already prepared to send.

“That guy looks young.”

“That’s what you’re focused on?”

“I can’t look at Bryan. That dress is worth a fortune and he must have had work done in order to pull off a neckline that reaches his… is that a navel piercing?”

“Yeah. His makeup is even better than it was at Halloween.”

Wendy stared at the pic on her phone for a few moments. She flicked the image away and made a call. “Mom?

“Yes, it’s Wendy. How’s Dad?

“Someone spotted Bryan at a bar. He’s fine.

“No, I didn’t talk to him.

“No, I have no idea why he doesn’t return your calls. Or my calls. I was just calling to tell you you shouldn’t worry about him.

“I know it’s been three months since he moved out of his old apartment and didn’t tell us where he is now.

“Mom, the police told us they found him and they couldn’t force him to talk to us.

“Yes, a friend of mine spotted him out and about on Friday. He’s fine.

“What I meant, Mom, is he’s not ill.

“I…

“You…

“Mom!

“I...

“I…”

Marisol stepped away a few feet and fake yelled, “Wendy? Wendy, come quick!”

“Mom, mom! Marisol’s calling me. I gotta go. Love you.

“Love Dad too. Bye.”

* * *

The bar was named Takeoffs and Landings.

“Is this seat taken?” the man said to a woman sitting at the bar. A simple, wide tumbler a quarter full of amber liquid sat on the bar in front of her.

“Free country.” She turned her head and looked at him as she said it.

“Thanks. I’m Tom.”

“I’m uninterested.”

“Already. Well, thanks. Saves me the trouble of asking if I can buy you a drink.”

She didn’t reply.

“Is there a guy in here you would talk to? Or are you just here for the ambiance?”

She still didn’t reply.

“I doubt you were stood up. You have the look of someone who came here to brood but you didn’t want to do it at home alone.”

“If you buy me a drink, will you shut up?” She asked.

“No, that would just encourage me. You should continue ignoring me. It’s fine. I can take it. Besides, that drink you have looks expensive. Probably saved me a bunch shooting me down right from the start.”

“Pity.” She took a sip.

The bartender arrived and asked Tom what he wanted. Tom didn’t say anything to the woman until his dark ale was delivered. He took a drink.

“You aren’t here to talk. You probably aren’t picking anyone up. Not waiting for someone. I was right when I said it was the ambiance, wasn’t I?”

“That you are ruining.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Just curious. Do you think I’ll have better luck with the brunette sitting at that table on your left with her two blond friends. Or should I go for the woman sitting alone in that booth on your right. The first girl I fear will be too easy and there’s no chance for a long-term relationship. But the other woman looks like she’s overeager for a long-term relationship. I was hoping for someone at neither of those extremes.”

“And started with me.”

“Your ship wasn’t even in the port it seems. I’ve moved on to hopefully someone who will look at me when she’s talking to me. I don’t ask for much.”

Without looking, she said. “The brunette. The woman in the booth will end up stalking you if you try to break up with her.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Wingman. Wish me luck.” He picked up his beer and headed to the table the three women were sitting at.

The woman at the bar knocked back her glass and finished her drink in one shot. When the bartender approached her, she waved her hand over the glass. He took the glass and put it in the wash bin. She sat alone for several minutes before looking over at the table.

Tom was looking right at her and gave her a wink when she looked over.

She got up and left.

* * *

“Hello?” Tom said into the phone. The call was from an unknown number.

“I’m calling you. I don’t know why.”

“Brooding bar lady from two weeks ago? So good of you to call.”

“Are you and the brunette engaged?”

“No, she didn’t even stay the night. Once she’d had her fun she left without even lying about calling me later.”

“You still dodged a bullet with the booth woman.”

“I probably did. But I can expect you to murder me on our third date, right?”

“Depends entirely on how you treat me how and when I murder you.”

“Great, this is a call about a date. Are you buying?”

“Sure. Let’s meet at the Cello Waltz around eight on Friday.”

“Oh, my.”

“You know the place?”

“I’ve never been there. But I am looking forward to it. Who shall I say the reservation is under?”

“Tom.”

* * *

Tom waited nervously in the lobby of the two star restaurant wearing a dark suit, tie and pale pink dress shirt. The door opened and his eyes were drawn to the woman entering. She wore an emerald, long sleeved, satin top with a plunging neckline. Her knee-length skirt was black and pleated from waist to hem. She wore dark opaque tights and medium height heels. She handed a beige trench coat she was carrying to the coat check person. Her clutch had a symbol on it that Tom wasn’t familiar with but he was sure it was a high end fashion logo.

As she approached him, he took her hand and kissed it. “I’m glad I dressed up.”

“I would have hated to have to murder you in the lobby.”

“I have a request.”

“My name?”

“If you would.”

“Call me Rayne.”

By the end of the night she was far less enigmatic to Tom and he was an open book to her. The check arrived and the waiter set it down next to Tom. He visibly froze.

She laughed. “I said I’d pay. Pass it over. No peaking.” She took out a titanium credit card from her clutch and placed it in the folder with the bill without looking at the check. She also used her phone to call a gig driver.

“Do you come here often?”

“No. I’ve only recently started indulging in fine dining. You could have taken me for a burger and I’d have enjoyed the conversation.”

“Date two.”

“There’ll be a date two?”

“I hope so.”

“I have one last thing to tell you before I hold you to that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m a trans woman. Is that problem?”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I didn’t think it would be for you based on our evening. But I wanted to be explicit about it.”

“Not a problem.”

The waiter returned with the receipt. She signed it and put the stub in her wallet with her card.

“You have my phone number. Call me and arrange our next date.”

“Are you free during the week?”

“Any night as long as you give me a day’s notice.”

“Noted.”

When they reached the lobby, she walked toward the coat check. After she handed her ticket in, Tom placed his hand on her shoulder to suggest that she turn toward him. She did and he kissed her. She kissed back, ending the kiss shortly. “Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Rayne.” He turned and left.

She put her coat on.

The woman at the coat check said. “Handsome man.”

“He is.”

* * *

Months later, the show they were streaming ended and Tom and Rayne were cuddled together quietly on the sofa in her condo. The television was turned off and they engaged in some soft petting.

“At the risk of ruining the mood,” Tom said.

“Not a good opening,” Rayne said, tensing up instantly.

“We’ve been dating for a while. You’ve met my parents.”

“I told you I would talk about my family when I was ready.”

“I was only hoping for an ETA on that.”

Rayne shifted so she was facing away from him.

He said nothing. His hands slowly trailed along her shoulder and hip. Eventually she relaxed again, leaning against his chest. She turned to look at him and they kissed for a moment. She turned away from him again and took hold of his wrists. She placed his hand on her breasts and said, “What do you think of these tits?”

Without hesitating, he said, “They’re great. Did you pay a lot for them?”

“They cost me my sister.”

He was going to let go but she put her hands over his and trapped his against her breasts.

“Bryan believed he had a twin brother. Late into their teens they were still dressing the same, finishing one another’s sentences, had all the same interests, and were referred to by most people with a portmanteau of their names. I won’t say it because it’s not my place to dead name Wendy.

“It took me months to confess to my sibling that I was gay. I knew they weren’t and I felt like I was letting them down.

“They laughed. ‘You know we’re different, Bryan,’ they said. I argued with them. But I had to accept it was true. We weren’t going to study the same things at university. We didn’t even attend the same university.

“I met a few lucky people during that time and that’s how I can afford a large condo that looks out over Central Park. My sibling didn’t study business. Wanted to be a teacher. No big deal.

“When we were twenty-four, she started presenting as a woman and figured out she was trans. I reacted poorly. Not to her face, mind you. To her, to family, I was the devoted brother. I paid for her transition. The same surgeon who gave me the breasts you continue to fondle made hers too.”

“Should I stop?”

“Of course not. Just try not to breath in my ear. It’s too soon for distractions if want the whole story.”

“Got it.”

“I could never understand how we could have been so identical and then so unique. I thought there was something wrong with me. The stupid part of that was not telling anyone for the next twelve years. Last summer something snapped. I told my fiance, Martin – I’ve mentioned Martin before, right?”

“Yes. He sounded like a wonderful guy from what you said.”

“He’s amazing. And I pushed him away, again, with the breasts in your hands. He had no use for a partner with tits. And he didn’t understand what I was doing.

“Which is fair because I didn’t understand either. At the time, I started taking female hormones and got breast implants and would only dress in dresses. It was so unfair to him.

“When he left me I melted down even more. I believed I needed to show Wendy I was able to be a woman too.”

“Able to be?”

“Yes, God, that was my mindset at the time. I was just a fucking idiot. I was totally fucked up. I went to Wendy’s home during a Halloween party. My costume, I said, was that I was dressed as Wendy. I even wore an outfit I had seen her wear on multiple occasions. This was before I had my hair dyed this red-violet color. We were both blond. I looked exactly like her. Marisol kicked me out.”

“Wendy’s wife.”

“Yes. That was my rock bottom. It sounds like I was an addict and perhaps I was. I was trying to be just like my twin. I had lost all sense of self. For weeks, I didn’t leave the condo.”

“What about work?”

“A few months earlier, over the course of spending time pretending to be a woman, I lost my place at work. It was high pressure, high finance Wall Street job. Lots of big dick energy. At first, all my friends and workmates were supportive of my wanting to transition. But they weren’t. They were frat boys in business suits. Some of them would fondle my ass in front of other people and I didn’t think anything of it. Eventually I was no different to them than the personal assistants they were cheating on their wives with and telling they would leave their wives to be with them some day. It’s amazing how easy it is to get someone to believe they aren’t just a good fuck when you’re their boss.”

“That’s awful.”

“I had them buy me out and retired early. I already have more money than I can spend. Before I went a little nuts, sadly, I had office assistants I would bang and lie to: Lyle, Oscar,... crap. I remember the last one’s wonderful cock but not his name.” She was quiet for a moment. Tom couldn’t tell if she was kicking herself for being an ass or if she was still trying to remember the man’s name. “In any case, when it happened to me, I thought I deserved the karmic retribution for being a scumbag myself.”

She paused in her storytelling as Tom’s fingers rubbed her nipples. She purred in appreciation before moving his hands into a more cupping position on her tits.

“Not so intense. Where was I? Oh, yeah. One day as I wallowed in the condo I ran out of booze and I couldn’t get any delivered. I was going to take a quick trip to a corner store when I passed my wardrobe and realized I missed getting guzzied up. I showered. I have no idea how long it had been since I’d showered. I got dressed, put on the warpaint, and went out to a club. I hadn’t felt alive in over a month at the time. I felt free. And I felt… I felt feminine.

“Guys were hitting on me and I didn’t want to play it safe. I wanted to get fucked. All I had to do was find a guy who wasn’t straight as an arrow. Turned out that wasn’t too difficult. For the next couple weeks I’d go home with a different guy. Each time they called me beautiful it felt right.

“I was a woman. I am a woman.”

“So it worked.”

“What worked?”

“Turn around.” She turned to face him as he continued, “You started out with the desire for you and Wendy to be identical twins again. Along the way, you discovered you are both trans woman twins.”

“I… That wasn’t…”

“You got implants. You took hormones. What did you think you were doing?”

“Pretending. It was just cosplay. Very expensive cosplay.”

“Was it? You could have stopped and gone back to being Bryan in several obvious places in the story you’ve told. You let a bunch of frat guys treat you like a piece of ass. All that was just pretending?”

“No,” she whispered. “I liked it. I wanted it. I’ve always been the inner spoon in a relationship.”

“Martin told you to find yourself and you did. You’ve always known. You just didn’t believe yourself.”

“Not always. I could never have put this feeling into words as late as a year ago. But you’re right I should have known. I pushed that feeling away and replaced it with nostalgia of being twin brothers.

”God, Tom. I wasted so many years…”

“No, no, no. Those years were necessary to get you to this place. And I have to admit I benefit from being here for you at the right time. One thing? How did you end up all morose in a bar when I met you?”

“After a month of hedonism, I saw Wendy while I was out. She didn’t see me. I hid from her even though I wanted to just run up and hug her. I was painfully reminded that the goal had never been to get fucked. I spiraled into a funk but I refused to just stay home. I hopped between a dozen bars before I found Takeoffs and Landings. I had been going there for over a week when this guy had the audacity to ask me to help him choose what woman in the bar he should hit on.”

“And yet you called him.”

“Clarise, the bartender, saw me looking around for you. She waited a week before she said to me, ‘Are you looking for Tom? He left you this.’”

“’If you need to talk, I can be your Wingman,’” Tom said. “I was so glad you called.”

“You just wanted a challenge.”

“Perhaps at first. You needed stability.”

“And someone who wouldn’t put up with my nonsense.”

“I have to exercise my part of that bargain again. I’m glad you felt you could tell me your story,” Tom said. “But, you need to tell it again to someone else.”

She cried. He held her. “Wendy,” she said wiping tears from her eyes. “If I invite her and Marisol to dinner on Friday will you attend?”

“I am your Wingman.”