24 Floors.

3 days.

That was how long I had isolated myself from everyone and everything. Maybe it wasn't helping a thing, but I simply couldn't find the energy to do anything unnecessary, like socializing.

And showering.

It was bad, and I knew it. As soon as we got back from the hike and accompanying meal, I once again escaped to my bunk. I slept for a few hours, and by the time I woke up, everyone had gone in the venue for the show. The sweat had dried into my skin with the dirt, and it was disgusting. My conscious told me that I would absolutely feel better after a shower and taking care of myself, and I agreed wholeheartedly.

The problem was this: I could barely face my body long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone an entire shower.

I knew everyone would call me out on it, and quite honestly, I didn't think I could handle anyone reprimanding me in the state I was in. So, instead of risking it, I avoided everyone altogether. I only left my bunk when everyone was gone. I knew Jack was getting really tired of it. After I yelled at him the first time he tried to get me to leave my bunk - which killed me to do, but I couldn't face him - he left me alone for awhile, but I knew he was almost at the end of his rope. Alex and him were on speaking terms again, and - now that Jack had moved back into Alex's bunk from the hard, cramped, painful back lounge couch(he was desperate to get off of it, and I didn't blame him. Even if he hadn't forgiven Alex totally yet, the awkward silence they slept in was better than a strained back and kinked neck at the next show) - I heard them whispering my name in their bunk, Jack's voice getting increasingly agitated. I had to get over this, and soon.

That afternoon, it seemed I didn't have a choice. "Jayden! Get the fuck up. I can smell you. Please take a damn shower." I had thought I was alone on the bus, everyone else having gone in to set up and, eventually, have sound check. I guess Alex had assumed the same thing until he came past my bunk. I didn't fight him, knowing he was right. I really needed one. Taking as much time as possible to pick out my clothes and find a clean towel, in ten minutes I was finally headed to the miniature bus shower, feeling Alex's eyes on me the whole time.

Slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it and sighed, avoiding the monstrous mirror beside me and facing the beast of a shower head-on. The faster you get in, the faster you'll be done. I set up my soap and shampoo in the shower and laid my towel on the toilet so it was in easy reach, trying to make this experience as short and painless as possible. I even had the shower started and warming up before I undressed.

The first thing I did when I stepped into the shower was hiss as the hot water hit my wrist. It seemed like the only way I could totally distract myself from the turmoil of my mind was the stupid fucking rubber band, even though every snap felt like a personal attack against Jack. This was going to destroy him more than it was me. I was possibly the worst child in history.

Even though I shut my eyes tight and avoiding opening them at all costs, my hands roaming my body and sliding soap across my skin left little to the imagination. I swallowed the lump in my throat, at the same time wanting to laugh that something as simple as a shower could reduce me to tears. I was weak. I was pathetic. The water making my flesh sensitive and touching every crevice of my surface just kept me aware of all of my dysphoria-induced insecurities for much longer that was healthy for me mentally. The steam from evaporating water was suffocating. The glass shower walls were suffocating me and it didn't matter that my body was still soapy at that moment; I had to get out.

In my desperate escape attempt, I slid on the draining water and fell out onto the cold white tiles. I didn't care that I would have to dry the floor later or clean the bathroom. All I cared about was covering myself in a towel until I could control myself enough to get off the floor and get dressed. My breathing was more wheezing, trying to keep away the tears through hyperventilation.

And of course, my luck just kept getting better and better. "Jayden? Are you okay?" Alex knocked on the door, voice high with worry.

"No!" I sobbed out, breaking my floodgates and letting my body curl in with deep wails. I pulled the towel closer, trying to cover as much of myself as I could as Alex jiggled the door and let himself in. He only looked at me for a second before getting on his knees beside me, trying to pull my hands away from my face. "Don't touch me, please!" I whimpered. I couldn't even stand myself touching myself.

He put his hands up and backed away just a little, just enough for me to know he wasn't touching me. "Okay, I'm not. I'm sorry. What's going on?" My only answer was adjusting my towel again, and that was all it took for it to click for Alex. "You didn't want to shower because of your dysphoria?"

"I wanted to. I just can't." I gasped, still struggling for breath like a fish out of water. "I know you really don't care-"

"Why don't I care?" He snapped, which did nothing to help my panic.

I wanted to sound just as angry, but my words came without bite, breathless and whiny. "Don't bullshit me. Y-You've hated me since you f-first found out I was J-Jack's kid." His face fell, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why. His band members and crew had pointed out countless times what he did, but it never affected him. "Why do you hate me so much, Alex? It can't just be because you're jealous. What did I do so bad to make you like this?" I sounded like a 5-year-old asking why their grandma wasn't coming back, why their puppy went to "a better place."

He tried to touch my cheek, but remembered the no touch rule at the last second, sighing. "I don't hate you, Jayden. I really don't. Things are just...complicated right now. We'll talk about it later. Right now, I think you'll feel a lot better if you get dressed. Hang on a second." He got up and disappeared before I could protest. I heard rustling close by, probably coming from the bunks, and seconds later Alex was back with a plastic bag in hand. "Jack was saving this for your birthday, but I think it's probably okay if you get it now. You look like you need it." He laid it in my hands, and I quickly pulled out the flimsy feeling present.

I pulled from the bag the most beautiful cotton sundress I had ever seen. It was sleeveless, simple black, and had sea green stitching around every seam. There were pockets at the waist and the waistline itself cinched just below the breasts, and flowed out in pleats below it, which would give the illusion I had more curves than I did.

I could have cried all over again.

Barely choking out a "thank you," Alex grinned and told me to meet him in the front lounge when I was done.

I dressed quickly, fueled by hatred of my body parts and not wanting to keep Alex waiting - despite how kind he had just been to me, I didn't trust for a second that he wouldn't revert back to his spiteful ways. It didn't take more than a few minutes, and by the time I reached the front of the bus Alex was pouring piping hot water into mugs. "I texted Jack. He should be here soon. I figured you'd be more comfortable with him than me. I'm sorry about that." He sounded genuinely remorseful as he handed me a mug, tea bag floating on the top. He said nothing about my dress, but I saw him stifling a smile when he thought I wasn't looking.

It was a proud smile.

I took a seat on a couch and took the blanket off the back of it, draping it over my shoulders. Alex looked at me strangely - the air conditioning may have been fixed, but it wasn't that cold - but I simply shrugged and looked away. We sat in a comfortable silence while we sipped at our drinks, lost in our own worlds. I was about halfway finished with my tea when Jack began pounding on the bus door. "Jesus fuck, what did you tell him?" I croaked from the couch as he ran to unlock the door.

"That you were scaring me and I couldn't help you." He answered honestly.

Jack pushed his way in before Alex could even really open the door. "What's going on?" As soon as his eyes landed on me, they went wide. "Why did you give them the dress, Alex?" He wasn't angry, just majorly confused.

Alex eyed me warily. "You want me to tell him?" I was nodding before he even finished asking. "I told them to take a shower, because let's be honest, you smelled really bad, Jay. So surprisingly, they listened. Turns out, the reason they haven't been showering or even left their bed in the past few days is because dysphoria is fucking them up. Bad." Jack didn't even have to ask me to confirm; it was obvious with one look at me, how I still adjusted my bra and fiddled with the dress. They way I shrunk into the couch and held my blanket tightly around my body. He trudged over and sat next to me while Alex continued. "I'm going to go to sound check and leave you two to talk. Jack, don't worry about coming. Take care of your...your daughter." He finally settled on the female gender, seeing as that's how I wanted to present right now.

"Thank you, Alex." I rasped as he opened the bus door. All he gave me before leaving was a bittersweet smile.

When I turned to Jack, he was watching me carefully, as if I were a wild animal - unpredictable. He seemed to have chosen his next words carefully, as they rolled off his tongue slowly and precisely. "You look so beautiful, Jay. Absolutely fucking stunning, sweetie."

I stared at his lap as the tears started again. "Th-Thanks dad..." I trailed off, unable to continue. I leaned forward at the same time his opened his arms to me. Letting him touch me was so different than Alex, or even Jack himself a month ago. I trusted him now, and even though my body screamed when he pulled me into his lap, my mind felt more comfort than it had in days.

"You're okay, baby. I've got you. We're going to fix this, I swear." I whimpered against his chest; this was all mental, so how could he fix anything?

"I'm so sorry." I whispered.

"Why are you sorry? This is nothing to be sorry for. It's not a choice, and although I wish we didn't have to go through this - you didn't have to go through this - I'm going to support you the whole way through. If you want to transition or become a drag queen or just stay the way you are, I'm still going to love you. I'm you father. This is what parents are supposed to do." Oh my god, was he sniffling?

I ignored how angry the last part sounded, and focused on what I needed to hear the most. "I love you too, dad."

Chin resting on top of my head, he wrapped his arms even tighter around me, squeezing me into a hug that would have been uncomfortable if it were anyone but Jack giving it. Relief was coursing through my body, and although the heavy cloud of dysphoria was still storming over my head, at least now I had an umbrella. Everything was okay.

At least, until Jack tried to adjust the blanket on my shoulders and instead pulling it off of my exposed forearms.

We both froze, too scared to even breathe. "Jayden, is that what you've been doing the past three days?" Jack's voice was emotionless, but shaky. His skin too on a pale green quality as he examine the bruises and shallow scratches along my forearm. "W-With the rubber band I gave you?" He asked, voice barely even there at all.

My slowly drying eyes went blurry again. I was tired of crying today, but it just wouldn't stop. I wanted to rip out my tear ducts, rip off my skin. "It was the only thing that helped! I tried distracting, venting, everything! Nothing else works!" I bawled into Jack. Now, I had no doubt his eyes was glassy too. "I'm so sorry dad! I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry for being a shitty son and a mess of a daughter and the worst child someone could ask for. I keep messing things up and even if you don't admit it I know I'm nothing but a burden to you and the band, just like I was to mom. Maybe you should drop me off at some adoption agency when we get off tour next week instead of bringing me to your house. I don't want to make you take care of me. I don't want to be this thing that was forced upon you that you had to learn to love and suck it up."

"Stop, Jayden, stop!" Jack yelled, screamed at the top of his lungs. He had my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. By now, he was crying as hard as I was. "Yeah, you're a burden. All kids are. But I want you to be my burden. Yesterday I was trying to figure out how we could legally change your last name to mine, if you want to. I will call up a goddamn gender therapist right this second and make sure you have an appointment the day we get to our house. Our home. I can't watch you go down a road like this," Jack gestured to my arm. "Alone. I refuse to let you. I will stay up with you all night if it keeps you from doing shit like this. I will skip a show if you need me to stay home with you so you're safe and comfortable. If you really, truly needed me to, I would quit the fucking band just so I could be a good father to you. I love you so much, Jayden. Even though I only found out about you not even two months ago, I want you to be a part of my life forever. I want to see you graduate and go to college if you want or flip burgers or run that damn sex shop; I don't care. I just want you to be happy and I want you to never feel like this. I am so sorry that you feel like this."

We were gripping onto each other for dear life, weeping into one another's shoulders and mumbling broken "I love you"'s and "I'm sorry"'s against tear-stained skin.

It was in those moments, those fragile, harrowing moments, that I truly realized this man, this band, was my family.