I have a wide grin on my face as I gaze at the other three women, all of whom are dressed identically to me in sparkly blue mini-dresses and high-heeled shoes (or, in my case, boots). The crowd is screaming with excitement, loud enough to bring my whole body out in goosebumps as we step forward onto the stage and raise our microphones to our mouths… before my phone rings, bringing me crashing back to reality. With a sigh, I pause the DVD and grab my phone from the coffee table, taking several deep breaths and trying to clear my throat before answering. Fortunately, the name on the caller ID is enough to put the smile back on my face.

“Hey, you,” I say between spluttering coughs.

“Hey Steph!” Kayla says with obviously forced enthusiasm. “How are you feeling today?”

“Meh, I’m getting there,” I reply with a shrug as I remember the reason why I’m watching our concert on DVD instead of performing it live.

Not that we didn’t originally perform it live, of course- this particular concert was held in London, at a packed local arena, on Tuesday the 3rd of March this year. Later that evening, we all went back to Charlotte’s house- which was also packed- to celebrate both a successful concert and the 23rd birthday of my good friend Nikki. We’d all been following the news, of course, but at the time we genuinely thought that all this talk of ‘coronavirus’ and ‘pandemics’ was overblown, that our lives- personal and professional- would carry on as normal.

The following morning, we were told that the remaining dates of our tour- all eleven of them, including shows in Birmingham, Manchester and Glasgow- were cancelled. Seven days after that, we were told that rehearsal sessions in the studio were ‘on hold’. And twelve days after that came the three words from the prime minister that everyone dreaded, but everyone expected nonetheless- ‘stay at home’. And from there, everything went downhill for me.

As Kayla still hasn’t moved back in, ‘home’ for her is still technically Southampton, meaning I haven’t seen her in the flesh in almost two months. Shortly after the announcement, Troy moved back in with his parents, leaving me all by myself in my flat. And I, of course, didn’t have the option of moving back in with my parents, as despite the fact that they both retired last year, the second they heard that the NHS needed volunteers, they were back to their old jobs- dad as an ambulance driver and mum as a nurse. They were the ones who said I shouldn’t move back in with them- considering the jobs they do, they didn’t want to put me at unnecessary risk.

Little did they know that mere weeks later, while they were still healthy, I would be the one to come down with the virus. I still couldn’t say for certain how I caught it- whether it was from a piece of post that was contaminated somehow, or from a takeout, or even from a fan on the street who stopped me for a selfie- something that the pandemic apparently couldn't put a stop to. All I know is that one morning I woke up with a headache. Then I discovered that I couldn’t taste or smell the rich Italian coffee I usually drink with breakfast. Then I started coughing. Then I started sweating. And for several days afterward, I was laid on the sofa or in bed, feeling like death. And the worst part is, even though I am supposedly free of the virus, I’m not free of its after-effects. Merely standing up from the sofa feels like it takes the same amount of effort as a five-minute dance routine and my joints ache almost all the time. I’ve heard a lot said about the possible side-effects of what’s being called ‘long covid’, but what’s worst is that because the virus is brand new, no one knows exactly how long these side effects will last.

No, actually, what’s worst is that since I first came down with the virus, I haven’t even tried to sing, for fear of what damage the virus has done to my lungs- not to mention my vocal chords…

“You’re definitely sounding better,” Kayla says softly.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I chuckle between coughs. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Kayla replies. “Still missing you loads, though.”

“I miss you too,” I sigh. “I just wish you could, you know, just come back, but it’s really not worth the risk right now.”

“I know,” Kayla says. “I really miss the flat as well, mornings and evenings just hanging out with you…”

“They were the best,” I say, smiling as I know that Kayla is missing performing most of all- but also knowing that she’s sensitive enough to not come out and say that to me in the state I'm currently in. “We’ll be together again soon, I know we will.”

“All four of us,” I say. “Have you spoken to Becca recently? Last I heard, she was furious at her wedding having to be postponed.”

“As anyone in her position would be,” Kayla muses as I fidget uncomfortably- despite the good place we’re in as regards our relationship, the topic of marriage is still a sensitive one for us. “And no, I haven’t spoken to her since Friday, I think she and Riley are having- heh. ‘Quiet time’, not like there’s any other type of time right now.”

“Yep,” I sigh. “And it’s meant to be Awesome Week too! I was really hoping I’d get to see my niece for her birthday on Sunday.”

“You mean OUR niece?” Kayla asks, making me giggle happily- I hadn’t consciously meant to ‘test’ her, it was a genuine slip of the tongue, but I’m very happy to be corrected in this instance.

“OUR niece,” I say. “And, of course, OUR new nephew as well!”

“And our soon-to-be niece or nephew as well?” Kayla asks, making me sigh happily once again.

“Danny is the only person I know who could become an expectant father in the middle of a global pandemic,” I chuckle. “Though I guess as the pub’s closed, it’s not like he has much else to do, heh.”

“And he’s a newlywed as well,” Kayla says, making me fidget awkwardly again, even though she’s the one who brought up the topic this time.

“Well- yep,” I chuckle. “As long as the baby wasn’t conceived on the pool table, or worse yet, the stage…”

“Gonna need more than a bottle of hand sanitiser for THAT!” Kayla says as we share a loud giggle. “Even if it means that Rachel’s now vulnerable, so we’re not going to be able to see her for even longer than everyone else. When’s she due again?”

“Around New Year,” I reply. “Possibly even on Christmas. Heh, meaning the child could’ve been conceived on April the 1st, which would be another totally ‘Danny’ thing.”

“Yeah,” Kayla chuckles. “Whose birthdays are it this week again, apart from Stephi?”

“Charlotte and Jessica, both a week tomorrow,” I reply as I check the calendar on our coffee table. “And Ashley’s is tomorrow, you know, the young girl from the Fellowship? I think she’s turning seventeen, she’s chosen a hell of a year for it, heh.”

“As long as it isn’t this bad next year for her eighteenth,” Kayla chuckles, before pausing. “Are- are you going to be on later, for the Zoom practice session?”

“…Not sure,” I reply. “It depends how I feel, I- I know I’ve missed a lot of them, but- yeah. Even thinking about moving leaves me out of breath, heh.”

“Well- either way, I know everyone would love to see you again,” Kayla said. “With our eyes, even if not in the flesh.”

“Even without my makeup on?” I chuckle.

“Steph, I must have saved at least £200 in makeup costs in the last 2 months,” Kayla snorts. “I haven’t so much as painted my nails since the end of March. And before you say ANYTHING about the shape of your face, I remind you that last year on the internet, a LOT of people mistook this 22-year-old woman for a 12-year-old boy.”

“That was a VERY harsh Instagram comment,” I mumble.

“Yeah, well, when you’re in the public eye, you need to get used to them,” Kayla sighs as I remember the post in question- a totally innocuous post of Kayla and I sat on our sofa in our pyjamas without any makeup on. Fortunately, Heavenly Talent’s social media does a good job of keeping any negative comments away from our eyes, but occasionally some seep through, and even after five years in the public eye each one still stings. What's worse, though, is when the abuse happens to Kayla. In a way, it's almost a relief to know that a white cis woman can get the same abuse as myself (or Adeola, who often gets it bad too), but every time Kayla's hurt, so am I. How sad some people's lives must be that they feel the urge to abuse someone simply for falling in love. Thankfully, the overall reaction to the relationship is still very positive from our fans, and almost certainly sold tickets for our tour- those that didn't need to be refunded, anyway.

“Well, you know how I feel about THAT,” I sigh.

“I know how you feel about most things,” Kayla teases, making me giggle- she’s not wrong, after all. “Soo… later, then?”

“I’ll be there,” I reply, earning an excited squeak from my girlfriend. “In the meantime, well, I’m here now, and it’s not like either of us have anywhere else to be, heh.”

“I can certainly think of one place I’d rather be,” Kayla sighs as I relax back onto the sofa and switch on the speakerphone.

Kayla and I chat for the next ninety minutes, talking about topics like the band and the (shortened) tour, but mostly about trivial nonsense. Whenever Kayla and I chat like this, what we talk about is far less important than simply being able to hear the voice of the woman I love. Eventually, though, the mere effort of talking begins to strain my throat and my voice, though Kayla thankfully senses this and comes up with an excuse to end the call- whether or not the excuse is genuine, I can't tell. All I do know is that Kayla always seems to be able to tell when I need to rest my voice, for which I am infinitely grateful. I let out a sad sigh as I drop my phone back onto the sofa- if I could, I would spend the whole day just talking to Kayla. However, thanks to this damned virus, I’m simply unable to, so after laying back on the sofa to catch my breath, I head to the kitchen to make myself a hot lemon drink (even if I can barely taste it) before heading back to the sofa to relax in front of the TV. Just as I’ve been doing every day for the last two months…

As I’m watching TV, I also take the time to idly flick through my social media, but I quickly find myself logging into my eBay account. On my watchlist I have over 50 new items of clothing I’ve had my eyes on, including a very sexy looking grey pencil skirt and a white bodysuit with a ruffle collar and bell sleeves that I fell in love with the second I saw it. However, despite the fact that five years of being in the band has made me VERY wealthy- wealthy enough that I donated £1000 to Captain Tom and it was a mere drop in the ocean- I simply can’t justify spending £50 on either of these items of clothing as I simply don’t know when I’m ever going to be able to wear them. For the last two months, I’ve lived in leggings, long t-shirts and on increasingly rare occasions slouchy denim skirts. Most days I don’t even wear a bra, and on those occasions that I do wear more 'grown up' clothes my mind immediately flashes back to when I was ‘Stephen’ and becoming ‘Stephanie’ was a treat, a game even. Even though logically I know that I am a woman- my B cup breasts mean that I actually NEED to wear a bra, for starters- merely putting one on brings back that nagging thought that ultimately, I am just pretending to be a woman. The negative voices I’d hoped I’d put behind me are a lot harder to ignore when you’re locked in with them and with literally nothing to distract you.

Rather than depress myself further, after a quick lunch I head back to the sofa and switch on my PlayStation 4, though this is more out of a need for something to do rather than a desire to actually play something. After lazily flicking through the numerous games and apps on my console, I open up my friends list, grinning when I see the username ‘[TC]_FreeMan_AFC’ on the ‘online’ list, but not in a game. I quickly open up the messaging app on the PlayStation and fire my friend off a message.

‘Hi Ian!’ My message reads.

‘Hey Steph!’ Ian replies after a short pause. ‘Didn’t expect to see u on here 2day.’

‘Not like I’ve got anything better to do with my time lol,’ I reply. ‘What you playing today?’

‘Just dling patches rn,’ Ian replies after another pause. ‘Then me & Ellie r doing some Rocket League.’

‘Cool, I haven’t played that in ages,’ I type. Didn’t like it much either, I think to myself, but I’d rather play that with friends than sit here alone. ‘Assuming you don’t mind me playing with you guys?’

‘Sure, we don’t mind,’ Ian eventually replies. ‘Would prefer if u can voice chat tho, typing on PS4 is a pain in the arse with dyslexia.’ Yeah, of course you would, I think with a sigh as I feel my chest and vocal chords tightening at the thought of another long chat so soon after my last one.

‘Okay but my chest is still feeling a bit bad so might not be able to talk much,’ I reply, before plugging my headset into the console and taking as deep a breath as my compromised lungs will allow.

“Hello!” My Welsh friend’s voice comes through my headset, making me smile despite my illness- with everything that he's been through since the New Year, it’s a genuine pleasure to hear him sounding so positive.

“Hi,” I reply, trying my hardest to match my friend’s enthusiasm. “Is it just going to be me, you and Ellie today then?”

“I think her sister’s joining in as well,” Ian replies. “They’re both studying from home and, well, have run out of things to study for the day, so here we are.”

“You don’t mind being outnumbered by girls three to one, then?” I tease.

“Not when we’re all friends and, well, ‘special siblings’,” Ian replies softly- an obvious reference to the fact that on this chat, trans people will outnumber cis people by four to zero. “…And I did ask Stuart and the band if they were free, but Stuart’s busy working, preparing something for this evening I think, Mikey’s helping him, Jonathan’s still got loads of agency-related work to do and I think Paul and Dan have gone for a run, so- yeah. And, of course, Lee’s still actually AT university.”

“I don’t mind babysitting the three of you for today then,” I giggle.

“Funny girl,” Ian snorts as the two sisters join the call.

“Oh, hey Steph!” Ellie says with a surprised giggle. “Didn’t realise you’d be playing with us today, you don’t have anything MUCH better to do, then?”

“I wish,” I snort. “Wish I had the energy for anything else, too…”

“Oh, Steph…” Ellie sighs sadly.

“Steph did say she might not be up for talking much,” Ian explains.

“I’ll be okay as long as I don’t overdo it,” I explain, even as I feel the strain start to build on my chest. “I wasn’t hospitalised with it, I just got a bad case, that’s all. I AM better.” I hope, I think to myself.

“Well- okay, if you’re sure,” Ellie says. “Has Ian told you what we’re playing yet?”

“Yeah, Rocket League,” I reply. “Been a while since I last played it so you may have to carry me a bit.”

“You’ll pick it back up quickly enough,” Ian advises. “Is Kayla going to be playing with us?”

“Umm, no, she doesn’t have a PS4 at her parents’ house,” I reply.

“And it’s not like she can go and buy one either with all the games shops being closed, I guess,” Jade interjects quietly.

“Hi Jade!” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, grinning as I know how flustered it'll make the young woman.

“H- hi Steph,” Jade mumbles, before sighing and giggling. “I’m glad you could make it today.”

“Well, like I told Ian, it’s not like I have anywhere better to be,” I say.

“Like hospital for me,” Ellie snorts, making me let out a confused 'huh'. “Oh- not in, like, a covid or other illness thing, but- heh. Let’s just say it’s gonna be a while longer before I get to be a ‘complete’ woman.”

“Meanwhile, my uterus and ovaries aren’t going anywhere any time soon,” Ian sighs as I start to fidget uncomfortably.

In the months leading up to March, my meetings with Dr Phillips (which are still ongoing, albeit over the telephone and much less frequently) had become increasingly focussed on one topic- SRS. I’d even found myself talking about it more with my friends who have undergone SRS, such as Jamie, Nikki, Alexa and seemingly countless others. All of them eagerly told me how life-changing the operation was, how much 'freer' they felt after it and all manner of positive things. What they all said, though, was that I had to want the operation for myself, not for anyone else- family, friends, fans or even Kayla. However, no matter how much I racked my brains, I couldn’t- and still can't- say for certain whether I wanted it or not.

And then, just as I was trying to resolve this dilemma, the pandemic hit and suddenly everything not covid-related was deemed a ‘low priority’, effectively making my decision for me. And while I’d eagerly take on the stress of having to make a decision if it meant getting rid of this virus, the truth is that I am relieved to not have to worry about the decision for now- and guilty that many of my friends who HAVE decided have also been deemed a 'low priority'.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to ‘tuck’ your ovaries every time you leave the house,” Ellie snorts. “Not like I’ve been doing much of THAT lately. Tucking or, like, leaving the house.”

“Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” Ian sighs. “And it’s not like I’m excited at the prospect of, well, being cut open, and it’s not like they’ve been giving me any ‘problems’ lately, but- you know? The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s done, if that makes sense.”

“Total sense,” Ellie says softly. “I mean, I’ve lived as a woman for literally years now, and there are some days I wake up and think ‘what am I doing, who am I trying to fool?’ sort of thing.”

“Trust me, that never goes away,” I sigh, before grimacing. “Ah- sorry, I get that we really don’t need any more negativity right now, heh.”

“Meh, you’d be naïve to think anything else anyway,” Ian says with an audible shrug. “Still, it just goes to prove that what they say is true, any and all surgeries are for us and us alone, especially as people will just keep thinking what they want to think about us.”

“We could literally change every single Y chromosome in our bodies to another X and there’d still be idiots like that IT Crowd guy,” Jade snorts.

“’Idiot’ is being a bit generous there,” Ellie says. “Okay, I’m all updated and I’ve loaded up Rocket League, want me to set up the group?”

“Already done it, I’ll send you all invites,” Ian replies as I try to put the conversation behind me and get ready to game on. “We play like the opponents are TERFs, okay?”

“No offence,” Jade says hesitantly, “But do you- do you have much of a problem with TERFs? Being a trans guy, like?”

“You’d be surprised,” Ian replies with a loud sigh. “’Cause I fancy women, I’ve been accused- to my face, once- of trying to ‘eliminate lesbianism’ by transitioning.”

“Right, and WE’RE the ones who are meant to be obsessed with sex and genitals again, are we?” Jade asks incredulously.

“Less talking, more playing,” Ellie orders as we begin our first match.

As welcome a distraction as the game is, I continue to be distracted by my young friends’ words all throughout. While it’s a relief to know that my feelings of impostor syndrome are all too common, it still makes me feel sad that I or any of my friends have to deal with it at all. And while lockdown means that the confrontations that Ian described may be fewer and further between, it also means there’s no escaping from these disruptive thoughts…

Our gaming session lasts until late afternoon, and after switching off my PlayStation (and feeling grateful that Ian, Ellie and Jade did the bulk of the talking) I make a quick snack for myself before crashing back down onto my sofa. Fortunately, my run-in with the virus has lowered my appetite, meaning I’m not putting on too much weight- especially as my run-in with the virus has also all but eliminated my ability to exercise. Nonetheless, after my ‘dinner’, I make a point of stretching and warming up (well, as much as I can) before returning to my sofa and logging into Zoom on my laptop. Seconds later, I’m invited into a call, and a genuine smile spreads across my face as I’m greeted by four grinning faces on my screen.

“Steph!” Becca squeaks excitedly, her happy smile reflected by Stuart, Adeola and especially Kayla.

“It’s so good to actually SEE you again!” Adeola sighs happily.

“Even though I feel and look like shit?” I ask.

“Yeah, ‘cause like I told you this morning, we’re all burning through makeup, aren’t we?” Kayla asks with a teasing smile.

“It actually took me a while to remember how to put on eyeliner,” Becca laughs as I examine her face and realise that I can barely tell she's wearing any make-up at all. “And it’s not like we haven’t all slept in the same room- well, tour bus- before.”

“Well- that’s true, I suppose,” I shrug. “What’s everyone been up to today?”

“Looking at wedding websites and trying not to get too depressed,” Adeola replies.

“Looking at horse websites and trying not to get too depressed,” Becca says with a sad moan. “It’s been months since I’ve seen Solomon, let alone ridden him, and while I don’t mind paying the extra money to have him cared for, he IS twenty this year so he is getting on a bit, and- yeah. I’d like to actually be able to ride him again before he gets too old, right?”

“First world problems, eh?” Adeola teases, smirking as her BFF rolls her eyes. “But seriously, I know how much Solomon means to you, Bex. Just ‘cause we’re not, like, starving, it doesn’t mean we’re not having it hard, right?”

“Everyone is,” Becca says. “Though a postponed wedding and an aging horse is a small price to pay for our health, I guess.” The chat briefly pauses- the four other people present clearly trying to avoid thinking about me.

“…You don’t need to tread on eggshells around me, just ‘cause I’ve had a run in with the virus,” I say. “Even if it is still kicking the shit out of me a month later, heh.”

“It sucks that it’s hit you so bad, though,” Stuart muses. “I mean, Keith- Charlotte’s husband- got it at the same time as you and he was just laid up for a few days and right as rain afterwards.”

“I think that’s why this virus is so much worse than, like, flu,” Becca muses. “It’s so unpredictable, and, like, young people can die of it as well.”

“And there are no injections you can take for it yet,” Adeola says, smirking as the famously needle-phobic Becca shudders.

“Have you really never had an injection, Becca?” Kayla asks as I start to giggle.

“Oh, she’s had plenty,” Stuart replies before his sister can speak. “Our parents usually took us together, and Becca bawled every. Single. Time. Even when she was into her teens.”

“By which point you were already at uni, as you damn well know,” Becca snarls as my giggles get louder. “Ugh, I dunno.”

“Olivia cried less at her last vaccination than Becca did at her-“ Stuart teases before being interrupted by his sister.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Becca snaps. “And thanks also for reminding me that I’m also not able to see my extra-cute niece right now.”

“Join the club,” I sigh.

“Which has three members,” Adeola reminds us, before grimacing. “Ah… sorry Kayla.”

“Meh, not your fault my parents decided to have only one kid,” my girlfriend says with a shrug that disguises her obvious unhappiness at being an only child- or at the very least, the only person of her generation in her house at this point in time.

“Lucky you,” Becca says, making us all giggle as Stuart rolls his eyes. “And now that we’re all here, is there any chance that we can maybe do some singing?”

“That works for me,” Kayla says, noticeably perking up. “And for the record, I do consider Stephi to be my niece. ‘Little’ Stephi, anyway!”

“And no, you do NOT get to call be ‘Big Stephi’,” I say. “’Auntie Stephi’ is fine, though!”

“Ah, speaking of which,” Stuart says, uncharacteristically giggling himself as he glances to the side, before lifting his daughter onto his knee, who eagerly waves at the camera. “Say hello, Olivia!”

“Hi Auntie Becca!” Olivia squeaks happily. “Hi Auntie Addie! Hi Auntie Stephanie! Hi Auntie Kayla!”

“Hi sweetie!” Becca says with a wide, genuine grin as her niece giggles. “Are you helping your daddy with his work?” The four of us all sigh happily as the three-year-old nods.

“Aren’t you meant to be helping mummy in the garden?” Stuart asks, chuckling tiredly as Olivia shakes her head.

“Mummy said I should ask you where the special gloves are for the garden,” the toddler replies, making us giggle again as her father sighs and smiles at us sympathetically.

“…I’ll be right back,” Stuart says as he helps his daughter off his knee and disappears off screen with her.

“Have you guys done any warm-up exercises yet?” I ask hesitantly, hoping that the answer is ‘no’.

“Not yet,” Adeola replies. “Wanted to wait until we were all here.”

“Until we could be sure that I’m actually going to be up to singing?” I retort, smiling sympathetically as my dark-skinned friend grimaces. “It’s okay. I’m wondering that myself, heh.”

“Want me to run through some scales with you?” Becca asks, smiling sympathetically as I take several deep breaths in a likely futile attempt to clear my chest.

“Okay,” I say with ill-deserved confidence. “Ready when you are.”

I nod and take as deep a breath as my compromised lungs will allow, before following along with Becca as we run through some basic scales. However, after mere minutes, I start to feel my chest get gripped by a familiar and very unwelcome level of pain.

“Are- are you okay, Steph?” Adeola asks as I cough and try (futilely) to clear my throat and my chest.

“…Not 100%, no,” I moan as I recline back on the sofa, trying my best to decompress my lungs to try to get as much oxygen into me as possible. “Ugh… good job we’re not touring anytime soon, eh?”

“Well- I guess,” Becca concedes. “But we are going to want to, you know, stay in the public eye with more Zoom gigs, even if they don’t bring in even a fraction of the money.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” I sigh. “And I want to, really, but- yeah. If I so much as breathe too deeply I end up feeling faint, god knows how I’m going to cope with our dance routines on stage…”

“One step at a time,” Becca says softly, even as I notice my girlfriend remaining silent.

“Though this pandemic couldn’t have come at a worse time for us,” Adeola sighs. “Jon and Uncle Joshua have said our streaming numbers have been dropping for months even before we locked down.”

“Our hiatus couldn’t have helped there,” I mumble.

“No, but we DID need it,” Adeola says. Or rather, you mean I needed it, I think to myself.

“If we can get this new album recorded in lockdown, then maybe,” Becca muses. “Our full American tour looks like it’s never happening too, heh.”

“Well, ‘full’ apart from the Bible belt, heh,” I muse.

“Yeah, let’s maybe not go there,” Adeola laughs. “Figuratively AND literally!”

“Sorry about that,” Stuart says as he returns to the chat, albeit without his daughter. “Jamie’s really got into gardening since lockdown started. Helps that it literally started on the first day of spring, heh. What have I missed?”

“Us talking about how this virus sucks,” Becca says, and as she glances at her camera, I get the impression she’s urging me to speak up- though over a screen, it is of course impossible to tell.

“We- we did some warm-up exercises as well,” I say. “Annnnnd… I- I nearly fainted after finishing them.”

“…Ah,” Stuart mumbles.

“So- yeah,” I grimace as I feel myself already starting to struggle for breath. “I mean, I can try to keep up, I guess, but I-“

“No- no, that’s okay,” Stuart interrupts. “You can’t help being ill, especially not now of all times.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as I start to feel tears trickle from my eyes- something that’s hard to disguise when you’re on camera, as I quickly discover.

“Oh- god, Steph…” Becca moans sadly. “I wish I could be there, I wish I could just give you a hug…”

“Yeah, well, no sense in all of us getting sick, heh,” I sigh.

“You’re not contagious anymore though, are you?” Adeola asks, smiling sadly as I shake my head.

“Been testing negative for weeks now,” I sigh. “And I know, everybody assumes you can’t catch it twice, but- yeah. Doesn’t magically undo the damage to my lungs, and knowing my luck…”

“Well, we- yeah,” Stuart sighs. “I’m going to keep looking through the internet, researching if there’s anything I can suggest that might help, like, fix things a bit quicker…”

“Don’t waste your time, I’ve been looking ever since I first came down with the virus,” I sigh. “There’s no end of supposedly ‘miracle’ cures on the internet, all of which look like they’ll make me MORE ill.”

“I can believe that,” Stuart snorts, before his sister speaks up.

“Well, like I said earlier, it’s not like any of us are going anywhere anytime soon,” Becca says. “We’ll wait for you, Steph.”

“Please don’t feel like you need to,” I say softly. “I’ve got no problem if you girls, like, want to work on solo projects, or- or if you, you know, want to get Lauren back, or sing as a threeso-“

“NO,” Becca says firmly, silencing me mid-sentence. “It’s all four of us or it’s none of us. End of story.”

“Totally,” Adeola affirms. “Unless you- you don’t want to leave the band, do you?” Needless to say, Kayla- who’s barely been able to look at her screen throughout the call- immediately jerks to attention at this question, and as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, it IS a question I’ve been pondering myself more and more since catching covid.

Under ordinary circumstances, there’s no way I would want to leave the band. The girls are my best friends. Kayla is my best friend AND my lover. And I love singing and performing. But circumstances are about as far from ordinary as it’s possible to get right now. I’m not physically able to sing, or dance, or perform to the standard I used to, then it simply wouldn’t be fair to the other girls to pretend that I can. However, as the others have pointed out, we ARE a team. A family, even. We may not have started out that way, but Lauren leaving really helped to solidify us as a group and, ironically, vastly increased our popularity. And with increased popularity comes increased fame and increased fortune- so much so in fact that I could very comfortably live without needing to work for the next ten years. But I do want to work- I owe it to the fans, and not just to those who continue to see me as a role model, an ambassador even for the trans community. Not least because I'm not 100% sure who 'Stephanie' is if she's not in Out of Heaven…

“Never,” I say confidently, earning smiles from all of my bandmates- Kayla included. “Even if I do kinda feel guilty about taking Joshua’s money and not being able to work for it, heh.”

“Well, there’s nothing any of us can do about the current situation, him included,” Adeola sighs. “He might have said he’s happy to keep, you know, subsidising everyone while they can’t work, but even he doesn’t have infinite money, so, well- yeah.”

“But it’s not like we’re not making ANY money, like, from endorsements on social media and so forth,” Becca muses. “The Angels even more so, which will bring money into Heavenly Talent.”

“Who’d have thought twelve months ago that we’d actually be grateful for Facebook and Instagram?” Stuart chuckles. “Alright, it doesn’t look like we’re going to get anything practical done today- not that I’m blaming you, Steph, but- yeah. Shall we try again, say, Thursday evening?”

“I suppose,” Becca shrugs. “Not like I’m not free every night of the week though, heh.”

“Well, Wednesday kinda IS my fourth wedding anniversary…” Stuart says.

“Got anything planned?” Adeola asks with a sarcastic snort of laughter.

“Well, as luck would have it, the traditional 4th anniversary gift is linen,” Stuart replies. “So we’re going to sleep in. For as long as Olivia lets us.”

“So… same as every other day in lockdown, then?” Becca asks, making her brother roll his eyes as we all giggle.

“Probably,” Stuart sighs. “Okay, we’ll say Thursday at 3pm then. Steph, do you want to stick around for a chat at the end of the call?”

“Umm, sure,” I say, letting out a sad sigh as the other girls leave the call- including Kayla, the person I’d actually hoped to speak to at the end of the call. “So… what’s up?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, like, in yourself,” Stuart says softly.

“I’ve been better,” I sigh. “I- I guess I’m just, you know, struggling, what with the virus and everything…”

“Yeah, but you’re not just struggling with what it’s done to your lungs, are you?” Stuart asked, smiling and grimacing as tears start to trickle from my eyes.

“No,” I feebly mumble. “I’m getting pretty sick of waking up in the same empty flat and not having the energy to do ANYTHING.”

“Are you still talking to Dr Phillips regularly?” Stuart asks. “I know she’s working from home, I had a session with her last Wednesday, Jamie the day before.”

“When I can,” I say with a shrug. “One thing’s for certain: SRS has suddenly become a low-priority topic, heh.”

“Yeah,” Stuart says, before grimacing and biting his lip. “How- how are your parents doing? You said they’ve gone back to work for the NHS?”

“They- they’re doing okay,” I shrug, trying my hardest not to think of how hard they’re working- or the risks they’re taking. “Think they’re more upset than anyone they won’t be able to see Stephi- like, their granddaughter- for her birthday on Sunday.”

“This year’s ‘Awesome Week’ is about as non-awesome as it gets,” Stuart sighs. “Are you going to give Ash a call tomorrow for her birthday?”

“I was planning to, yeah,” I say. “Gonna talk to Laura first, I think she’s, like, taking a lead on it.”

“Okay,” Stuart says, before taking a deep breath. “I- I don’t want to force you to get back to, like, full strength before you’re ready, and it’s clear the others don’t want to perform without you. But- but Joshua IS going to want a return on his continued investment in the group. Right now, that means solo projects, and you know Joshua, he’s not going to kick you out because you’re not productive for a few months, especially now of all times, but-“

“But he’s not going to indefinitely pay me to sit on my arse all day?” I ask.

“…Well, royalties means he kinda has to,” Stuart chuckles. “Thing is, he’s not going to pay ME to sit on my arse all day. I’m Out of Heaven’s producer, and as you’re not producing anything, he’s going to, well, tell me to produce something else. And before we went into lockdown, we were looking at, you know, other projects to get our teeth into. That’s been the case since the band’s hiatus, actually.”

“So- and bear with me here- what I think you’re trying to say is, ‘make your mind up what you want to do sooner rather than later’?” I ask.

“Which I get you can’t do when you don’t know when you’ll be back to full strength,” Stuart says.

“Or even ‘if’,” I mumble.

“But we can’t leave the band in limbo forever,” Stuart explains. “Even if it’s just for the fans, like.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” I sigh. “And- and I will make up my mind soon, even if it’s, like, a hiatus for me but not the others. I WANT to be in the band, trust me.”

“Okay,” Stuart says, holding up his hands in defeat. “I know that I and everyone else wants you in the band as well. But, like, nothing lasts forever, and- yeah. Still got plenty of time to think about this, I guess.”

“We’ve got nothing but time nowadays,” I chuckle. “I’d better let you get on with helping Jamie in the garden, heh. Give my love to her and Olivia.”

“Will do,” Stuart says, smiling as he ends the call and once again leaves me by myself. Immediately, I scroll through my Zoom contacts list, looking for only one name in particular. Kayla had been quiet- unusually quiet- during the group chat, and it’s clear that something serious is on her mind. However, despite my chat with Stuart lasting mere minutes, when I check, Kayla is already offline. I shoot her a quick text message on my phone asking her if she’s okay, but after 5 minutes with no reply, I flop back down on my sofa with a loud sigh.

After an evening of Netflix and Nintendo, only stopping for a quick bite to eat and to check if Kayla came online (she didn’t), I head to bed, letting out a loud sigh as I pull the sheets over my tired body.

As I toss and turn, my mind is occupied with one thought- what would my life be like if I ended up never returning to the band, or even never being a singer again? I have enough of a social media presence that I’m not going to have to get a job stacking shelves or flipping burgers, but if the last two months have proved anything to me, it’s that I don’t cope well with having nothing to do. And this is only amplified when I’m all alone by myself. When I’m left alone with my thoughts, they tend to start taking over- thoughts like ‘what if I never sing again?’, or ‘what if I get the virus again?’, or ‘what would my life be like if I was a normal girl?’. That last thought is especially insidious, as it leads me to another unavoidable conclusion- that I never have been a ‘normal’ girl.

‘Stephanie’ came into existence on the same day that I first auditioned for the band. Sure, I’d dressed up before, sometimes for extended periods when my parents were working, but I’d never truly LIVED as a girl before then. Now, finally- and despite more than a few setbacks over the years- I can’t imagine my life as anything other than a girl. Once again, though, the question is: what type of girl would I be if I wasn’t in Out of Heaven? Or even famous? What type of work would I do, who would I hang out with- would they be as accepting as the others in the band? Would my family be as accepting? Tom almost certainly wouldn't have named his daughter 'Stephi' if it didn't mean she'd share her name with a famous singer...

These thoughts continue to fill my mind as I lay on my side in my darkened bedroom, my eyes fully open and my mind fully awake…

Eventually, my alarm wakes me from my half-slumber, and after letting out a low groan- it is only 7:30am, after all- I pad through to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee before switching on the television. Needless to say, the news today is just like it was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that going all the way back to March, so I quickly switch to Disney+ instead, hoping that an old cartoon will be more likely to pull me out of my funk instead, or at the very least provide some kind of distraction. When even that fails, I let out a loud sigh and head through to the bathroom to shower and- for the first time in ages- apply a light layer of make-up, before returning to the living room and switching on my laptop. Even if I (and most of the rest of the world) don’t have anything to celebrate right now, there is a girl- a friend, even- who does, and a Zoom call really is the least I can do right now.

“Happy birthday, birthday girl!” I say with a giggle as the image of the newly seventeen-year-old girl appears on screen and immediately clamps her hands over her mouth in shock.

“Oh- oh my god, thanks Steph!” Ashley squeaks as I giggle.

“Are you at college today?” I ask. “Well, ‘at’ in a virtual sense, anyway.”

“Umm, yeah, I’m starting in a few minutes, I-“ Ashley stammers, before sighing and giggling as several other familiar faces join the call.

“Happy birthday Ash!” Laura- who masterminded the call- yells happily into her screen. “Did you like our little birthday treat?”

“What, getting Steph to call me first?” Ashley asks. “Other than nearly giving me a heart attack, sure! Umm, no offence, Steph.”

“None taken!” I giggle as the other girls on the screen- the remainder of Laura and Ashley’s ‘excellent eight’ group as well as Jamie and Nikki and a few other girls of Ashley’s age who I don’t recognise- all wish the birthday girl a happy birthday.

“Did you get anything nice, Ash?” Nikki asks.

“Umm, this is about as good as gifts get right now,” Ashley chuckles. “Really wish I could see you all in person right now, guess I’ll have to settle for this, heh.”

“We WILL celebrate properly when we can,” Laura reassures her friend. “But for now, we do kinda have to improvise when it comes to presents, heh.” The rest of us on the call all nod in agreement, before giggling as two other girls- both of whom look like preteen versions of Ashley herself- jump onto the birthday girl from either side and squeeze her with tight hugs.

“Happy birthday Ashley!” The two cute girls repeatedly squeak as poor Ashley looks increasingly flustered!

“Okay, thank you, thank you!” Ashley giggles. “For those who don’t know, this is my sister Cassie, this is my sister Dorothy.”

“Dee!” The younger of the pre-teen girls says petulantly, making the birthday girl giggle and roll her eyes.

“…My sisters Cassie and Dee,” Ashley sighs. “Say hi, girls!”

“Hi everyone!” The two blonde little girls yell simultaneously as they wave at the camera.

“Mummy says you need to start getting ready for your classes soon,” Cassie- the older of the two girls- says as I can’t help but muse that not that long ago, a girl her age would probably have a freakout at seeing someone like me live on their computer screen. Then again, when Out of Heaven was founded, Ashley was more or less the same age as her sisters are now. Though I can't help but notice that none of the older teenagers on the call are freaking out either…

“…Yeah, I should probably get going, heh,” Ashley chuckles. “Though it was SERIOUSLY awesome talking to you all this morning, hehe!”

“And we WILL talk later,” Laura reassures her friend. “Virtual slumber party?”

“Maybe this weekend,” Ashley chuckles. “Not sure my parents would approve of me staring at a laptop screen at 2am, heh.”

“We’ve got time to figure out the details,” Laura giggles as one by one, the call’s participants start dropping out- myself included as I muse on Laura’s words, and how time is all I have right now.

Time that seems to stretch into an eternity as I realise that I’ve probably had all the excitement I’m going to have for the day, and it isn’t even 9am yet. Once again, before logging out of Zoom I scroll down my contacts list to see if Kayla’s online, though I’m not surprised to find that she isn’t- she’s not much of a morning person, after all, regardless of whether or not she’s doing anything during the rest of the day. Nonetheless, I grab my phone and start typing out a message to her.

‘Hey,’ I type. ‘Been missing you a lot recently. Call me when you get the chance. Love you loads.’ With a sigh, I toss my phone back onto the coffee table and slump back in my seat, lazily flicking through Netflix, Disney Plus, Amazon and every other streaming service I subscribe to in the vain hope of finding something, anything to pull me out of my malaise. Instead, I find myself starting to doze off, before a knock comes from the front door and brings me back to reality.

“Don’t remember ordering anything,” I mumble as I wander toward the front door. When I open it, however, I get the biggest shock of my life.

“…I got your text,” Kayla whispers, holding up her phone in one hand while dragging a large suitcase with the other.

Tears immediately well in my eyes- and to my surprise, Kayla’s as well- as I say no words and wrap my girlfriend in a long, tight hug before we share a soft, loving kiss.

“…You do still have a key, don’t you?” I ask my girlfriend, who simply giggles and sighs as she drops her suitcase in the hallway, takes off her shoes and her jacket and drops herself in her usual spot on our sofa.

“I thought I’d better knock, just in case- well, yeah…” Kayla replies with a grimace, before giggling. “And technically, I don’t actually live here- well, like, didn’t still live here, assuming- ‘cause, like, if I’m NOT okay to move back in, I’ve kinda broken a few covid rules, and-“

“Welcome home,” I whisper, sitting down next to Kayla and giving her another kiss before we cuddle into each other. “We- we’ll work out the details later, I’m sure Troy won’t mind- yeah. All that matters is this moment right here, right now.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Kayla says with a happy sigh as for the first time in months, I feel my stresses and anxieties start to melt away.

So what if most of my future is uncertain? The same thing could be said for virtually everyone else in the world right now. SRS and the band can wait for now. What’s important, what I know for certain is my love for Kayla. The mere sight of her in the flesh for the first time in months was enough to immediately make me forget about SRS, or the band, or even the virus. Even if I don’t know for absolute certain what type of girl I’d be if I wasn’t in the band, there is one thing I know for certain- I’m Kayla’s girl, and that’s all that matters right now. Maybe the Beatles were right when they said that ‘all you need is love’? All I know for certain is that right now, there's nowhere I'd rather be- and no one I'd rather be with. Even if the future is still far from certain…