THERE was the cliffhanger I've been meaning to have for a little bit now haha. And now I have a lot of explaining to do.

The title should give some excitement for what's going to happen next, yeah?

I would like to have you know I did A LOT of research.

Enjoy! :)

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Spot was right: Race was not going to believe this.

A top secret group of people who got together and discussed the rights of people like them--people born in the wrong body who wouldn't conform to normal gender roles.

People like Race and Spot.

Medda knows the leader of the group. She thought that Spot and Race might want to see this place for themselves. It was like she knew the things that Spot and Race would talk about.

"Well, what is this group called?" Race asks, dying from anticipation.

Spot smiles, and says it out loud. "The Cercle Hermaphroditos."

Woah. That's a name.

"Why haven't I ever heard of this before?" Race asks, desperate to learn more. The wait is killing him.

"They're top secret," Spot explains. "Only the people who attend the meetings and very few others know about it. They won't let it go public. Too much risk."

"That's how it always is for people like us, isn't it?" Race comments dryly. "Only a few know, top secret, a lot of risk."

"Race, you're missing the point." Spot takes both of Race's hands in his and faces him directly.

"What point?"

Spot quickly inhales and exhales. "Medda is friends with the leader of it."

"And...?"

Spot leans in closer to Race. "She knows that they meet at Paresis Hall. And that there's a meeting tomorrow."

Race takes it in.

Spot leans out again and looks away. "If you're interested..."

"When did I ever say I wasn't?"

Race can't wrap him mind around it. Guess I'll find out about it tomorrow.

--------------------------

Race doesn't come to these parts often. Maybe if he came here, to 4th Avenue and 14th Street, he would have discovered them sooner.

Paresis Hall.

The androgyne headquarters.

Race definitley should have found this place sooner. Or at least asked Medda about it earlier.

But they're here now.

To say that Race is a little nervous is an understatement.

He is really nervous.

"I can't believe we're here," Spot murmurs. "It's like we were meant to find this place all along."

And now I finally get to meet more people like me.

This is what Race has wanted pretty much his whole life. Yes, he's had Jack, and now he has Spot, and he says grazie al cielo every day for it, but they always have to hide. These people? Yes, they hide. But there's a whole group of them.

Of how many?

Race won't know until he walks inside.

"You ready?" Spot asks.

They both know that everything is going to be different when they open that door.

"Yep," Race breathes in. He twists the doorknob.

Together, they quietly slip inside.

Since neither of them have been here before, they had no idea what sort of thing they were expecting.

They have no clue where they're going. So for now, they wander around, looking at all the people here.

So far, it's mostly been men dressed up as women. Which was to be expected, naturally. Men who want to be women can't be who they are in the outside world.

That's when they accidentally bump into one. More accurately, Race wandered off a little and accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oh my!" the lady exclaims in surprise.

Race's face heats up more fiercely than it ever has before. "Sorry, miss. Wasn't looking where I was going."

She started smiling when he referred to her as miss. That makes him smile too. It's those little things that are precious. He knows that hearing that made her happy. He feels warm on the inside now. 

Now he wants to call every single woman in here miss or ma'am to make sure that they know that they're valid.

Even though he's probably one of the youngest ones here, and not currently presenting as the gender oppressed by society. 

That won't change his mind.

Then he forces himself to be present in the moment.

"It's quite alright," she assures him. "You look a little lost. Is this your first time being here?"

"Yes, it is," Spot cuts in to the conversation. The woman raises an eyebrow at him. "We came together," Spot explains quickly. "This one doesn't always look where he's going."

Race glares at Spot.

She finds it all endearing. "Well, there are lockers down that hall for when you want to get changed," she tells them kindly.

That confuses both of them for a moment.

Oh.

They came in here dressed as boys.

So of course this woman would assume that they were men trying to escape being men.

Race has no clue how to feel about that. Happy that he's finally passing as a man? Or terrified at the idea of wanting to return to being a girl?

"Oh no, we're not like that," Race tries to correct her quickly, but just ends up saying as an explanation, "I-we're-uh...we're not..."

Spot, help me.

Spot rolls his eyes as if he hears Race's silent plea. "Yeah, we ain't quite like that." He unbuttons part of his shirt to reveal the bandages around his chest.

The woman understands. "You're girls who know that you're boys."

Race looks down and nods.

She smiles kindly at them. "No matter what gender you're escaping to or from, you're like us. You know who you are on the inside. But the world around you hates you for it. Coming to terms with who you are brought you peace of mind, but fear of being treated differently. Just like all of us. So we need to survive in different ways. We need to stick together."

Race agreed wholeheartedly with every word that just came out of her mouth.

How the heck did they not come here sooner?

Spot, although he likes this woman very much, is silently saying to himself, you're not jealous, you're not jealous. Race doesn't want to get together with her. He wants you. You're not jealous...

"The meeting is just about to start," she tells them. 

Race dips his head respectfully. "Thanks."

"By the way," the woman tips her head curiously, "how did you find out about us?"

"Uh..." Race scuffs his shoe. He didn't exactly expect to need to explain this. But he gets it. Top secrecy. "We know a woman of the theatre--Medda--who's friends with the leader of this group. Medda suggested we should come here."

The woman's smile widens. "Medda! Such a lovely woman. Any friend of Medda is a friend of our's." She pauses. "May I ask what your names are?"

Spot and Race exchange glances. What name do they give her?

She notices their uncertainty. Wow is she observant. "I don't need to know the name you were given in your old life. We shouldn't need to bring up the past like that. Whatever name you call yourself now, your true name, is what I want to learn."

Where have you been all my life, O bright angel?

"I'm Racetrack," Race introduces himself, "and this is Spot." Realizing how weird those names sound, he adds, "we're newies. Hence the odd names."

She smiles at them. "Well it was very nice to meet you." She holds out her hand. "I'm Jennie."

Race shakes hands with her first. "It was very nice to meet you too."

"And you two like the names you go by?" she asks as she shakes Spot's hand next. Spot, who is relaxing a little more.

Spot and Race nod vigorously. These are the truest names they've ever had.

She smiles. "It is always a happy moment when you find the name that fits you best. Maybe one of the best things in the world."

That, they can both relate to.

"Well, I best be off," she tells them. She winks. "See you when the meeting starts!"

She walks away, dress moving in an elegant way.

Race watches her as she leaves. "I'm so glad we met her."

"Yeah, me too." And Spot means it.

Race glances at Spot. Then faces him entirely. He smirks. "Hey, I know that look."

"What look?"

"You're jealous."

"What?" Spot starts blushing. "No I'm not."

"You know you blush when you try to deny your feelings, right?"

"Shut it."

"I caught you red-faced--so pretty much red-handed but it ain't your hand that's red--so that's that on that."

Spot sighs. Race and his wild mind.

Race thinks he's a genius. Caught red-faced. Why don't people say that more often? When that phrase is brought into the light, he wants everyone to know that he came up with it. It's going to be world changing, he knows it.

He let his mind get away from him. Again.

He focuses on Spot.

"You know that she's probably twice our age, right?" Race asks kindly. "And I just met her. She's a wonderful person." He kisses Spot gently on the lips. "But you're the only one I like--like a like-like--that's too many likes in one sentence for me-"

He's cut off by Spot kissing him back.

Why doesn't Spot get him to stop talking like this more often?

That's a question neither of them know an answer to.

When they break away, but foreheads brought together, Race murmurs, "Any time you feel like I'm talking too much, just do that, okay?"

"Oh, I will," Spot promises. Then he pulls away. "Now let's go up to the top floor." He can't wait.

Neither can Race.

This is what both of them having been wanting for as long as they can remember.

When they get up there, they find a bunch of chairs in a circle. A few people are sitting down, but mostly it's people walking around, talking to each other.

"And here I was thinking I was the only one not wearing a dress."

They whip around to find a man who dressed (and talked) like Denton, taller than both of them, much older than them.

So now they have to explain it again.

"We-" Race doesn't know how to say it, so he just tugs at his shirt to reveal the bandages. "We're the opposite of nearly everyone here."

The man smiles. He unbuttons layers of coat and shirts to reach his chest, with bandages to match Race's. "I am too."

Race's eyes widen.

So there is someone like them here. Someone who knows firsthand what they're story is like. Their story. 

After buttoning everything up again, the man holds out his hand. "I'm Roland Reeves."

Race shakes his hand. "Racetrack." He points at Spot behind him. "That's Spot."

"You're here together?" Roland asks.

Race nods. "Yeah, we're together."

"Race, that's not what he meant," Spot tells him with a hint of exasperation in his tone.

"Oh."

Luckliy, Roland chuckles. "It's all okay. It's refreshing to see new faces here. Especially young faces." His eyes go from one boy to another. "Espeically those like me. Those who weren't born a boy...and like boys."

Woah.

He does know their story.

"Well, the meeting's about to start," he tells them.

"How'd you find this place?" Race blurts. He just needs to know.

"I helped co-found it," Roland answers. "I'm one of Ms. June's friends who helped her create this group."

That would make a lot of sense.

"It was nice meeting you," Spot puts in before the man can walk away. And he means it. Truly. He wants to see this man again.

As they go their separate ways with Roland talking to other members (probably some of his close friends too) and Spot and Race finding somewhere to be without taking up too much space, a woman comes to the center.

It's Jennie, who they were talking to earlier.

That's when Race puts it together.

Jennie.

Miss June.

Medda said the woman running this organization was Jennie June.

The woman they ran into knew Medda.

Right when they came here, they ran into Jennie June.

And what's more, they didn't even realize it.

You are so smart, Racetrack. You know that? He sighs at himself. Yeah, I know. Oblivous, then not oblivous.

"Spot," Race murmurs. "That's Jennie June. Medda's friend."

Spot's eyes widen.

As everyone gets settled, Jennie June begins to speak.

"Welcome, everyone," she starts, smiling at them all. She sits down at last. "Thank you to all my friends who have stayed with me over the years," gesturing to those sitting next to her in the circle, "and all of you who have come since." she gestures at everyone else. As her eyes land on Spot and Race, she winks at them.

So this is what special attention feels like. Race doesn't want it to stop.

"As you all know, we've been fighting for our rights for a long time," she continues. "And it's not an easy fight. It never was, and it'll never be. Maybe in our lifetimes, we won't see the changes." She winks at Spot and Race again. "Maybe it'll be those of a younger generation who are finally able to turn the tide."

Me. Yes. Look at me. I won't disappoint you.

Except now she has all people looking at them.

Needless to say, Race is loving the attention.

He squeezes Spot's hand excitedly. His feet are tapping. Spot smiles. He knows the signs of when Race is happy.

And seeing Race happy is worth it all.

"The people of the outside world want to think that we don't exist," Jennie picks up again. "They think that they deserve the power and the say to make everyone live in the way that they want. A way that we don't conform to. Us, the androgynes. I, for one, am tired of conforming. I know you all feel the same way. So, now more than ever, we need to unite for the defense against the world's bitter persecution of bisexuals."

(A/N: at the time, bisexuals meant being two genders rather than how we know it today as liking 2+ genders)

That gets a lot of appreciation from the crowd.

And the meeting goes on.

-------------------------

Race can honestly say that this is the best he's felt in a long time. He feels enlightened. He's walking on air. He's inspired. He wants to take action now. He wants to run out into the streets and scream that he's proud of who he is.

He wants to thank Medda for telling him to come here.

Spot for always being at his side here.

Roland Reeves for being someone like them.

And most of all, Jennie June.

After everyone disperses, he immediately seeks her out, her words still raging in his mind.

We need to unite for defense against the world's bitter persecution of bisexuals.

She smiles when she sees him. "Racetrack!"

"Hi," Race responds shyly. Then with even more shyness that he didn't know he had, "I really liked all you had to say. You were amazing."

Her smile widens. "Why thank you very much."

"When's the next meeting?" Race asks. "If...if we can come again, that is."

"Same time, same place, next month," she answers with a smile. "and please do come."

Race brightens up. "Of course!"

"You know," she mentions, "maybe next time, if you have anything to say, you can speak."

Race's heart beats faster at the thought. Sure, Jennie did a lot of the speaking, and so did her friends, but she encouraged everyone to speak. Race and Spot knew that they wanted to wait this one out, but they appreciated hearing what everyone else had to say. This is a group of people like them. This is the most safest and respected they have felt in a long time.

"Yeah," he says. "I think I might."

She smiles. "That handsome boyfriend of yours is welcome to speak next time as well."

"Yeah, my-" that's when Race realizes he took off without Spot following him. Accidenti. "I am so sorry, but I need to go find him. Thanks for everything."

"Of course! And give my regards to Medda!"

"Yep. Alright. See you around."

"Bye, Racetrack. It was really nice meeting you."

Now that they got their goodbye's out of the way, Race immediately takes off, hoping that Spot didn't make it too far.

Luckily, there aren't that many people that look like Spot. That's when he sees (or spots) red suspenders and beautiful eyes belong to his favorite person ever.

Race is so glad that he found him. 

Spot is a tad bit furious, however. "Race! You can't just run off like that-!"

Before Spot can say anymore, Race has thrown his arms around Spot, catching him off guard. Before he can say anything else, Race stops him with a kiss.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Race murmurs to a now flustered Spot. "I just had to. But I'm back now." He hugs Spot tighter. "I'm so glad we're here. It's amazing."

Spot softens and hugs Race back. "Yeah, I'm glad we're here too."

Within a few moments, they leave. But oh, this is not the last time that they'll be here.

Race knows he's coming back. He's going to keep coming back.

There are people out there, many people out there, who are like us. And I found them.

As Spot goes to Brooklyn and Race goes to Manhattan for the night, Race feels like he's walking on air.

Jennie was right. People like them need to stick together.

Race practically skips home. Because for once, everything in the world is right.

-------------------------------------

As quietly as he can, Race sneaks back into the newsies' lodge. It's late, and no one should be up right now.

Well, no one should.

"You know, there are many other places you could have gone instead of right here," Race tells Kid Blink and Mush, who were too absorbed in kissing each other to notice that Race walked in.

They jump back, startled.

"We-we thought no one would be here," Mush mutters as Kid Blink's face turns bright red. "W-we didn't know you was comin' back tonight."

Oh, who am I kidding? They're so cute together.

"Nah, it's okay," Race dismisses it. "I get why you didn't choose up in the room." He pauses awkwardly. "Well, goodnight."

"G'night," they both tell him before getting back to kissing.

Race grins. They're so cute together.

Jack's waiting for him at the top of the stairs. "Hey, Race."

"Hey, Jack."

"Honestly, I didn't know if you were going to come back tonight."

"You wound me with your lack of faith, you truly do."

"But it's too late to have just come back from Sheepshead," Jack points out, curious. "So where were you?"

Race's smile on his face grows. "Oh, you are not going to believe this."

That intrigues Jack immediately. "Believe what?"

And maybe it's a combination of everything and every feeling that's been going on, but Race just shakes his head and laughs. "You are not going to believe this."

--------------------------

I can't stop smiling.

I thought that ending would be funny considering that that's how I left you all last time.

3400 words. Yeah, this is my longest chapter.

So I put a lot in here.

The Cercle Hermaphroditos was a real group, Jennie June the leader, Roland Reeves a member. I don't know if he was ftm or mtf, so since I only got his male name I ran with the idea that he can connect to Race and Spot being ftm.

I got most of the information by an article called Jennie June and the Cercle Hermaphroditos on a website called Transgender Universe. I learned a lot. Still, it's bare minimal information since they were so top secret that hardly anything is known about them. Nearly everything I learned I put in here.

I knew that I wanted Race and Spot to find a community of trans people at some point in this story, and I knew that there probably weren't that many. This was the only one that I could find that existed in their time, having been created in 1895, and since it was in Manhattan, that was even better for this story. Did they allow new members to join freely? I don't know exactly. I do know that when I read the name I was like "hmmm" but I read into it more and I'm glad I did.

Jennie June actually said "We need to unite for defense against the world's bitter persecution of bisexuals." At least, Roland Reeves said that that was said. I know that bisexual means something different today, but I wanted to keep it in because not only is it historically accurate, it's a pretty cool sentence. The Cercle Hermaphroditos was one of the first organizations to fight for gender-non-conforming rights, and Jennie June was one of the earliest transgender individuals to publish an autobiography about being trans, even if that word didn't exist back then. (She also used the word androgyne to describe herself, so that's why I put that in here). It's pretty amazing.

I love writing characters that validate each other.

This is by far my favorite chapter.

What did you all think of everything here?

Please, no homophobia or transphobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who is so glad that their school has a GSA and that we can have our own little queer *community* there)