FSE

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Rebecca groaned as she awoke. Strange scents. Strange sights. An unfamiliar abode. Light streamed brightly through the windows, its glare blinding her as she tried to look around. Her head throbbed and her mouth felt dry.

Confronted by unknown surroundings, recollection rushed back. Her conjectures as to why she was in this location and state of migraine confirmed as she heard Molly's voice:

“Wakey-wakey!"

The cheery words felt like nails on a chalkboard. Too loud, Rebecca thought, too loud...

“Oh...fuckfuckfuck..." she yowled, “I'm sooo sorry Molls!"

Sitting bolt upright, she got a full view of the antelope and her home.

“Oh crap...ah, I'm in your house aren't I?"

“Cade left for work early. I didn't want to disturb you — so I slept on the other couch."

“Who? Oh right..."

Rebecca slapped her head, cradling her skull with her hand. “Urgh-oof," she grumbled as she twirled her legs around to stand up. A blanket that had been draped over her fell to one side as she shakily stood. The room spun.

She noted another set of blankets on the other couch. No bullshit. Molly really did keep me company...

“Before you start apologising again," said Molly as she walked from the kitchen and back, returning with some food, “we all have nights like that. You didn't intrude."

“Look I'm really sor—"

“What did I just say?" she interjected with a friendly tone of voice.

“Yeah but I should say sorry! Oh god...fuck...I wasn't acting stupid last night was I?"

“Only a little."

“How much is a little," she sighed.

“Kinda loud, kinda boisterous; though you calmed down during the drive."

“I didn't come on to your boyfriend did I?"

Molly chuckled. “No, but you called him 'good-looking'."

Rebecca cringed at the thought. “Well...I've done worse."

“So," Molly said, handing her breakfast, “do you want to talk?"

The collie looked down at her meal, then back up to Molly as she sat down.

“Can I have a moment to think first?"

Molly nodded.

Once the required moment had passed, the two hybrids found themselves a place at the kitchen counter. Balancing on a stool forced every slovenly brain-cell in Rebecca's body to work overtime as she emerged from her hangover.

“I can bring you to work today, you're still parked there right?"

“Yeah. And thanks. Molly, you told me when I saw you that yesterday was a personal day, and I pissed all over the end of it. Why aren't you upset?"

“I was preoccupied with other things."

“Violet?"

“Yeah."

“I remember that part of yesterday. And...y'know...why the rest is a blur. Ugh, fuck!" she exclaimed, “why'd I do that?"

There was a mournfulness about her that Molly sensed. A dour, depressing mood — the same kind you find yourself trapped in when remembering something embarrassing. A cycle of recollection, realisation, and regret.

“Look, I understand," Molly said, seeking to soothe, “for me, bitching at my friend is a lot safer than if you decided to tell your boss what's what. It's scary. Unless you're all set with a plan to earn a living before telling someone you're quitting you absolutely don't want to admit you want to."

“I did, like, admit it though. I told you, told others."

“Sure. And you kept trying to convince us to do the same. Most of us thought it wasn't serious — if you wanted to go, just go. Unless Vi's been really good at hiding her true self from me it's not like she'd be mean or cruel or anything. We thought it was a boast, just something you said to get a rise out of people."

“Great. Makes me sound like an even bigger bitch than I thought I was being!"

“Take it from me, okay...it's not as bad as it sounds. Nobody hates you. They're just annoyed."

“I getcha." Rebecca rested her head in her hands and groaned.

“If you want to do this I can come with you to talk to Vi, or go on my own and let her know what you're thinking?"

“You would? Thanks..."

“Listen," Molly said, her voice low and heartfelt, “I like working at the club. I like the stability, the regular pay-check, not to mention the tips on a good night. That's me, however. You could, and can, feel different."

“I do."

Clearly, Molly thought. She chuckled.

“What's so funny?"

“Eh, nothing..."

“C'mon girl—what?"

“I sound like my old school guidance counsellor. Way back when."

Rebecca snorted. “Your guidance counsellor? She tell you to get into the stripper business!?"

“No, not like that," groaned Molly. “I just mean the vibe in general. Me talking someone through planning their future career. Makes me feel old."

“You're older than me honey."

The antelope's gaze narrowed into a discerning glare.

Sheepishly, the younger collie's ears matted down and her fur bristled with nervous energy. “Teasing, girlfriend, teasing!" Rebecca's goofy grin sold her on the good-natured ribbing. “I meant to say you are an attractive old woman..."

“Okay, let's set the record straight here — I'm not that old!"

Rebecca remained doubtful — a fact Molly keenly observed in her bemused expression. A serious look emerged, gaze aimed like withering gunfire in the collie's direction. A frown...a grumble. Pushing the uncomfortable silence just far enough to cause her concern before breaking the facade with laughter.

“You..."

Rebecca replied with half-hearted giggle. Molly shook her fist dramatically.

“Ah," the antelope sighed, “what will I do with you? No respect for your elders."

“I thought you said—"

“Shush!"

Molly's expression turned caring, and she sat beside Rebecca.

“If this is what you want to do with your life, I'll talk to Violet."

“Are you sure? We could wait until—"

Molly raised her hand gently. “Are you asking because you want to, or because you're afraid?"

That stumped her. Molly's question forced Rebecca to think. To navigate her muddled emotions.

“Listen," she continued, “it doesn't matter if you want me to tell Vi now or later, it matters that this is the right decision for you." She looked around, as if searching for what to say next. Finding it deep within, she spoke her words carefully:

“I don't make a habit of broadcasting this in routine conversation, but I went through the anthromorphing gene therapy at Vi's request. Well...request makes it sound formal. I decided I needed to reinvent myself. Get a new job, a change of scenery. Basically a whole new life; to, uh, a certain extent anyway. But the thing that was important was that I wanted to do it — I agreed to work for her and I agreed to undergo the process so I could work at the club."

She stopped, looking at Rebecca. Mouthing empty sounds as she constructed the next sentence:

“She had her own reasons for convincing me. But that's not what drove me to do it. No, it was one-hundred-percent me." Molly tapped her chest to emphasise the point. “What you are thinking of doing is way less extreme. Changing jobs rather than changing species, eh?"

Upon being nudged twice by her shoulder, Rebecca chuckled in agreement.

“...but," she said softly, channelling her best impression of a wise teacher, “if it's what you want, and you've spent awhile thinking about it...that fear...that trepidation is just the lazy side of you not wanting to change. The part of you that's happy with everything staying exactly where it is until the end of the fucking universe. You understand me?"

“I do."

“Then it's all up to you to make your decision. I can help. I can start the conversation with Vi. But only once you've decided."

“I mean, you're right," said Rebecca, “it's just quitting my job. It's not the end of the world. I know I can make my own way. I'm already most of the way there — got an audience, loyal followers, and I'm making money!"

“See?" Molly beamed triumphantly. “I be you don't even need me at all."

“Well you did say you'd..."

“Oh for the love of—!"

Rebecca shot her an irritated look, to which Molly sighed and laughed.

“Sorry Becca. You can forgive a little exasperation after building up to a speech like that."

“I suppose," she said, rising from the couch with growing surety. “I'd still like you to talk to Violet first — if it's not a problem?"

“No problem at all!" Molly exclaimed, standing upright and patting her canine colleague firmly on the shoulders.

“Now," said the antelope, walking back towards the kitchen, “let's quit wasting our time chatting and get to work, huh?"

* * *

Violet's office was open, and the only thing that alerted Molly to her absence when she strode by were the low mutterings of a deep masculine voice:

“Stupid...fucking..."

When she reached the doorway, she saw Rylan comically trying to sit in Vi's office chair. The large horse shifted side-to-side, swearing under-breath, as the wooden seat strained 'neath his tremendous weight.

Molly coughed. Rylan looked up at her and gawped.

“Heh," said the equine hybrid, “human-sized chairs eh?"

“What are you doing here?" Molly asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

“Just keeping an eye on things."

“Is Vi off work today?"

“Yeah," he grumbled, settling into a stable seating arrangement. The desk in front of him cleared of paperwork — only a set of pens and a ring-binder lay before him. “Short notice. She needed me to mind the club while she was away."

“Do...you know where she's gone to? Is she sick?"

Rylan shrugged. “Beats me." The horse opened the binder and flicked through the pages. “She didn't say much. Sounded urgent. I didn't pry. Anyway, what do you need?"

Confused, Molly glanced at the large hybrid. “Uhhh...not much. Just checking in. Did Vi happen to mention anything about my medical records to you before she left?"

“Medical...oh sure, I think there's some here belonging to you."

Rylan rummaged through the desk drawers until he found a folder with Molly's name on it. “Clean bill of health hopefully," he said.

Molly took the folder from him. “Yeah, that's the idea." Flicking through the enclosed documents she harrumphed. “No more check-ups for my gene therapy thankfully — only the routine stuff now." She clapped shut the folder. “No STIs!" she joked. Given the nature of her job, it was only partially humorous.

“Certainly hope so, given your relationship status, thanks for oversharing by the way," came Rylan's sardonic reply.

“Can't complain, oh and get over yourself!" said Molly.

He laughed. “Home life treating you good?"

“Cade and I have been trying to plan stuff together — the usual foibles."

“Seems like he's good for you. No drama, no-nonsense kinda guy."

“Look at you," Molly remarked, chuckling, “taking an interest in a long-term relationship? Big change from your usual habits."

“Mmm...I do more than sleep around."

“I'm sure you do big guy. Unless you're looking for stable relationship advice I'm not the person to go to — why the curiosity?"

“No reason," he said, trying to remain nonchalant, keeping images of hot bunny twinks — one in particular — out of his mind.

“Cool because I don't want to become the club therapist — between you and Rebecca..."

Molly paused.

“Oh shit, yeah. Another thing I was supposed to talk to Vi about..."

“Rebecca?" asked Rylan.

“Yeah. She's somewhere in the building, was gonna rope her into a chat with the ol' boss lady."

“Is she going for sure?"

Perceptive, huh? thought Molly. “Sure is. She's been talkin' about it for long enough."

Rylan gave a small chuckle. “That she has!" A short nicker followed, the equine sputtering alien to Molly's ears, but signalling familiar emotions. “But seriously can you send her 'round — I want to wish her the best if that's what she's decided."

“Thanks. I'll see if I can find her today. She was dreading the whole 'I quit' conversation; since you're here instead of Violet, I'd say she feels better telling you first."

“You say that, but I am in charge while she's gone y'know. Can't be too friendly with my underlings."

“Shut it you!" Molly chided him, a comfortable intimacy belying the harsh overtone of her words.

She turned to leave. A busy day awaited her onstage. She wouldn't get home until late.

* * *

“Can we talk?"

Cade's voice was serious. At least, Molly thought he sounded serious. Sometimes she couldn't quite tell; he had a way of speaking like a stern lecturer, that she found him using sometimes when he was bothered.

“About what?" she asked.

“About your friend last night."

“Oh. What about?"

Cade sat next to her as she reclined in the living room, kicking his feet up beside her long legs as they lay planted on the nearby coffee table. The clock had gone well past midnight, and both human and hybrid lay there, exhausted.

“I like where we are in our relationship..." he began.

“I do too."

“...but are you okay with it bleeding into the rest of your life?"

Molly was puzzled, and let it be known via a tilted head and flicking ear.

“Your job," he added, meeting her confusion with a caring look.

“Cade...that's hardly fair. Bailing out Rebecca from causing a scene once is not grounds for judging my work/life balance."

“That's not a judgement — it came across wrong...I'll..." he stumbled before finding his figurative feet, “I think you're beautiful and you love showing the world that beauty. Corny, I know! But absolutely true. However...it can take over your life, leave you no privacy...disrupt what we've come to enjoy about each other. I wouldn't want to lose you."

“And I don't want to hurt what we have," she said, reaching over to gently caress his hand.

“It feels like…I dunno, maybe I'm overthinking...it feels like you want to keep things static."

“Static?"

He shrugged. “People move on, friendships falter; doing the same thing each day, each week, gets harder and harder. Rebecca's a good example."

“You see her once and then you know everything about her, huh?" she joked.

“I only know what you've told me, and what I've learned from her in person. And you've told me a helluva lot…"

Molly waved her hand dismissively. “Gossip doesn't count."

“That's not the point Molls. The point is: do you want to change?"

She looked away. Then she spoke, a tinge of defensiveness in her tone: “no. I'm happy. Do you?"

“I don't know. I truly don't," he sighed.

There was a brief pause. An ebb in the conversation. A moment to let both think about what next to say. Molly closed her eyes and nuzzled Cade, as if to physically reinforce their connection 'mid the fraught discussion.

Cade broke the silence: “do you remember we talked about the differences between human and hybrid. And the — admittedly slim — possibility of me going through gene therapy?"

She nodded.

“Well I can't shake the notion that would help me come to terms with what I'm feeling. Is that something you want?"

“It's a big leap."

“But you did it...and I'm guessing from your argument with Violet you see it as viable for anyone feeling like they need to change, adapt...I wonder would it help us stay as strong as we are?"

Molly took a deep breath. “Cade, I want you to listen because what I'm about to say is important. It's about you and me, and our life together. Okay?"

“Of course."

“We're not international celebrities. We're not action heroes. This isn't a movie. Or a video game. There's no boss battle waiting for us to overcome at the final level. There is no final level. Sometimes you can live, fulfilled, just by being around someone you love. Being there for them — no matter how ordinary or mundane things seem. My work is exciting, yes. My altered body, my sense of identity, of self, is alien to how things used to be. How life used to be in centuries past. Hell, even in the recent past! It's hard to reckon with but I give it my best, and I see you trying too. If you think that you need to do anything to fit into my life...anything more than you're already doing, you're wrong."

She paused her heartfelt delivery, and took another long breath. Butterflies swirled in her stomach as she searched for the right words...

“I love you, Cade. I love who you are. You may be mild-mannered, but that's to compensate for my exhibitionism. You, by your own admission, may not be 'exciting', but you are steadfast — my shoulder to cry on, my hand to hold, the source of warmth in the bed beside me. And you may be human, and I no longer, but you're the human I fell for. Since coming to know you I've never thought you needed improvement."

She smiled, and he responded in kind. A short nervous chuckled escaped his lips, followed by a sniff.

“You got me tearing up!" he said, masking the serious discussion with a light-hearted remark.

“Heh! It's infectious," she sniffed, letting her body rest against his. Her argument spent. Her heart poured. Would it be convincing?

“I think..." Cade ventured, the words dangling on the edge of his lips, hurriedly forming to try and express his feelings, “...I think you're right. I think I've been kinda distant, confused recently. Could be a bad case of imposter syndrome that's making me think all these thoughts."

“This is like the third time in two days I've had to talk to someone about their identity! And each time the important thing to remember is it's your path. It's about whether you're comfortable with your life at this moment."

Feeling her snuggle against him, Cade replied in a sleepy voice: “I'm comfortable where I am right now!" He held her. “It's late. Very late. You wanna head to bed?"

“Can't," she mumbled, drowsiness taking over, “too tired."

Cade kissed her. It only took a few minutes before Molly had fallen fast asleep. Checking his phone, he reclined and let her head rest on his chest. The lights gradually dimmed as he adjusted them remotely. Molly's gentle breathing a pleasant lullaby, beckoning him to slumber.

He ran his fingers through the fur on her head and neck.

“I know it sounds silly when I talk about stuff like that," he said softly, “thanks Molly. Thanks for listening to me..."

His voice lowered to a whisper, until he could scarcely tell if he'd spoken a word at all or just imagined doing so...

I love you.