Aleah had never thought of herself as particularly desirable. She was attractive, certainly, but that was surface level stuff and they never really bothered with beauty beyond the standard glam and glitz cheerleading required. Honestly, most of their time was spent in a hoodie feeling gender dysphoria over their chest, or lack thereof that made passing as feminine nearly impossible. They were glad their parents accepted her identity, but they didn’t want her, quote, mutilating her body with foreign hormones, unquote. She understood that they wanted to protect them, but really they were only protecting their own transphobic interests. Also, even worse, they felt like they were being stalked. Clues kept dropping, like hairs on their clothes and cameras kept being set up in their bedroom that they had to keep dismantling. Fuck it, she was being stalked and she had had enough. They were going to find the stalker, and make them pay. Years of teaching herself how to fight had paid off, as much of a good little student as she seemed they were a stone cold killer and they’d do it again, to keep from getting their body assaulted by asshole old perverted men who only wanted to hurt her.