1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Adam

I adjusted my tricorne hat and took in my appearance in the mirror. It always made me happy to see myself in the full outfit of stockings, breeches, waistcoat, coat, cravat, and hat. It was an iconic look, one that I proudly donned as an interactive performer and tour guide at the Boston Freedom Trail . Tipping my hat at my reflection, I stowed all of my modern clothes and belongings in my locker. I certainly couldn't be seen with a cell phone or zippered clothing— for shame .

It was my job to help people from the present step into the past. As a history major, it made my geeky heart happy. I got paid to cosplay. Maybe it wasn't where I thought I would be when I had been younger and idealistic, starting at college with my whole life ahead of me. A history degree didn't lead to a lot of different options, though. Not unless you were someone like Josh Gates who traveled the world to find places that time forgot. Teaching was one of the main goals, but I was too young to settle down into a teaching career.

At twenty-four, the idea of being stuck in a classroom and grading papers sounded worse than death. I'd gotten a job at the Freedom Trail during college to help me get by, and I fell in love with it. It was outside, I got to talk with people, and I got to share my love of history in a performative way that satisfied my high school theater roots.

Despite it being a historical program, they were huge on inclusion, which was a must. When I had requested to change from wearing gowns to breeches, it had been met with compassionate acceptance, and the transition had been easier than expected. Though, it had taken some time to remember to bow instead of lower in a curtsy, and there was a period of time when I did a strange mixture of both until it looked like I was squatting as if to fetch a shiny shilling that fell upon the ground.

Today, after leading a group of twenty from Boston Common past the Massachusetts State Building, to the Granary Burying Ground, to the site of the Boston Massacre, and ending at Faneuil Hall, I bowed— not curtsied.

"Good day to you. I am your most humble servant."

When I stood, the people I had spent an hour and a half with cheered and took turns taking pictures with me. Then, I would wait and start the reverse tour that would begin at the Hall and work backward toward Boston Common. I did this round trip twice a day, four to five days a week depending on the season. I absolutely loved it.

It was a relief to take off all the layers at the end of the day, even if I liked the way I looked and stood taller in them. The cotton and linen fabrics weren't as hot as today's materials, but that didn't change the fact that it was a lot of clothes to wear.

After work, I returned to modern times. And modern prices. Unfortunately, spending my days in the eighteenth century didn't pay enough to live in the twenty-first, especially not in Boston. I changed back to my normie clothes of black, ripped jeans, and my favorite Keroppi hoodie, before unlocking my bike and making the ride home to South End.

Living in South End wasn't ideal financially, but the location was amazing. Not only was it close enough to ride to work, but it was a great area: very queer-friendly, big on the arts, and my history-loving heart loved seeing all of the restored Victorian row houses. I fell in love with it when I came to Boston for college, but there was no way I could afford to live here on my own, especially not as an interactive historical performer.

I walked my bike up the steps to the brownstone, which had been turned into apartments. Mine was on the second floor, where I shared it with an older lesbian named Kris. I was grateful to have found her to rent from, because inclusive area or not, there were still concerns as a trans man when it came to sharing a space.

It was a two-bedroom apartment, but with how small the rooms were, I wondered if the property owner had converted a one bedroom into two in order to charge more. At least sharing the rent made it manageable…mostly. I'd had to make some sacrifices, but it was worth it for the location, convenience, and a roommate I could trust.

Kris was a regular at Randy's Diner and happened to overhear a conversation I'd had with another guest about looking for a place. Until I moved in with Kris, I had been living with a coworker and their wife for a while, but they were getting ready to have a baby, so I knew I couldn't stay much longer. They would need their space for their expanded family.

Randy's was in South End. It had a funky vintage feel with its white and light blue checkerboard floors and neon pink lighting that accented the diner. It was a local favorite and a queer sanctuary. Even with the surrounding area being LGBTQIA-friendly, it was nice knowing there was a place where you never had to wonder if you would be accepted or had to worry about being in danger.

I discovered Randy's in my college days. Few places were open twenty-four hours a day, and the environment there was way better than Starbucks. I used to come with my laptop and study in the middle of the night, always fascinated by the crowds that would show up at all hours. Writers, kinksters, rock-hounds, theater people, and the folks coming to relax after a night at the club. I'd really taken a liking to the clubgoers, and after being invited out by the very bubbly Avery, I joined them for alternative nights at the Athena Club sometimes. I loved going with them. Not only was it freeing to be able to wear whatever I wanted, it helped knowing I had a safe group who watched out for each other.

A few months ago, I spotted a room for rent flyer on the community bulletin board at Randy's. It had humorously mentioned not being a mystical portal to an alternate dimension and claimed no goat sacrifices, which was probably the strangest ad I'd seen, but I kinda dug the vibe. I had taken a tab with the contact info and saved it for when I would get back from California.

I spent almost a month out there, soaking up the sunshine, and helping my best friend and college roommate prepare for her wedding. It had been a beautiful affair. Everything was so perfect, and I was thrilled for her. Besides seeing my bestie say ‘I do,' I had proudly acted as her man of honor.

The wedding had been my first time wearing a formal suit, and I could not even begin to describe how euphoric it felt. Despite my five-foot-three frame, wearing that suit made me feel like I was six feet of pure manly man-ness, like I could break logs in half with my bare hands. I was pretty certain that Carmen's older brother had even checked me out at one point. Which was weird, but also really flattering and a nice boost to the ego. He was too stiff and serious for me, but I appreciated the appreciation.

It had been hard to see Carmen go back to California after college, but it made sense since all of her family was there. Now she was a married woman. It was surreal, but I was beyond happy for her. We didn't see each other often or talk as much as we used to, but she would always be my person, and we could pick up right where we left off no matter how much time had passed.

Once I had returned to Boston, I finally contacted the ad I'd found at Randy's for the room, but it had already been taken. That was when Kris found me. She usually sat at the counter, and I'd caught her tracking Neve, one of the cooks. Neve was a fit, muscular woman who always loved trying new, healthy recipes. Kris always tried whatever Neve made, no matter how strange. I think Kris was more than a little infatuated, and Neve seemed to enjoy having a willing guinea pig.

Kris had overheard me grumbling about missing the opportunity for the room. She'd waved me over and told me her son had moved out recently, so she had an extra room. I got good vibes from her and moved in soon after.

It had been a perfect fit. Kris had been lonely since her son left. I think that was part of why she spent so much time at Randy's, aside from her crush. She told me it helped her to know someone else was there, even if we didn't spend a lot of time together at home. She was protective and supportive, and maybe I was a sort of stand-in for her son, but I didn't mind. Kris gave me plenty of space, and we usually kept to ourselves at home, but having someone around if I needed anything was nice.

As it turned out the room I'd missed out on had been snatched up by my club friend, Avery, who had apparently hit it off really well with his roommate, Myles, one of the writers that hung out at Randy's. And Myles…he looked at Avery like he hung the sun. I was glad I hadn't called in time, because it sounded like it was meant to be for them.

There would be no roommate romance for me and Kris. Aside from our age difference, we were solidly in two separate camps. Kris was into, well…Neve, and I liked men. I really liked men. Tall, short, lean, squatty, hairy, smooth. It didn't matter much, as long as they weren't asshats, and I'd met plenty of those to know what to avoid.

As progressive as some people claimed to be, there were still many that believed the measure of a man came from what was between their legs. After a few awful hookups, I'd started dropping douche detectors right off the bat. I still had plenty of fun, but I'd found it easier to look online than in person. At least then I could know more of what I was getting into before clothes were shed.

Online was a comfort space anyway. I loved people, but sometimes it was nice to be able to escape from both the past—at work—and the present, and enter worlds of fantasy or science fiction, of fandoms and geeking out with folks with similar interests.

I parked my bike in my room and picked up a milk crate I kept under my bed. Ready for a mental break, I hauled it a couple of blocks to Randy's.

It wasn't unusual for me to show up at Randy's with a crate. When I walked through the door, Zo nodded toward the corner booth I usually took, and I began setting up.

From the blanket-padded crate, I pulled out the monitor, laptop, over-ear headphones with mic, and a full-size bluetooth keyboard and mouse. This booth was one of the few that had an outlet underneath.

As much as I loved where I lived, the rent was on the edge of what was comfortable, so I chose to not pay for internet. Kris was a reader and used her phone's data, so if I wanted Wi-Fi at home, it was on me. But Randy's had free Wi-Fi, and they didn't mind patrons lingering there. After utilizing it during college, it seemed like an easy solution. If I was just watching shows or listening to music, my hot spot on my phone worked fine. Playing a game was impossible on borrowed data, though.

Having a full monitor in a restaurant was odd, but it was so much better than trying to see everything on the laptop's screen, and using a full-size Bluetooth keyboard made gameplay a lot easier than on the laptop's keys. The crate got pushed under the table where it would stay until I was done and loaded everything to go back home.

With an order of cheesy bacon fries on its way, I loaded up my favorite mechanical dragon game. It wasn't long before I was sending arrows through the air, battling robotic beasts and trying to survive. So relaxing. It was the perfect way to end my day. After I played for a bit, I would watch the recording of the livestream I missed with my favorite streamer, Locke_N_Load.