Julia's known only to herself, as Steven to the rest of the world. Through circumstances out of her control, she becomes neither. Can she make things right? Can she get back home?

Like It's Your Last
By Marissa Lynn

2023 had not been a year full of highlights for Steven Kelly.

Not when the biggest moment was the breakup of his five-year relationship. They'd been drifting for a while. Ultimately, Kara had reached a point where she couldn't handle his dressing, not the fact that he did it, but the increasing frequency.

As he walked to grab a late lunch, he thought, "It's like she wasn't angry, but, what, supportive? She looked right at me and said, 'Truth is, I'm not a lesbian and, to be honest, neither are you.'

"What was that supposed to mean?"

As Steven reached the place, he saw an older man with a gray beard outside. He looked lost.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. It's just today's a tough day. It's full of reminders. But I'll be okay."

"Alright, good luck," Steven said, but as he grabbed the door handle, he looked back and said, "Say, how about I buy you lunch? At least you won't be hungry."

The man weighed his options, but seeing Steven's kind face, he said, "That sounds good, actually. Thank you."

The two sat down and as Steven enjoyed his French dip and the man, who'd introduced himself as Bradley, took bites of his tuna melt, they conversed about the ongoing trials in Manhattan and the sorry state of the Jets.

Steven finally bit the bullet. "I'm sorry for those memories, Bradley. I know it's not much, but I wish things hadn't happened to you."

"I do, too," Bradley paused. "21 years ago today, I lost the love of my life. She was special. Beyond special, really. And just like that-"

He started crying and couldn't finish the thought.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Don't be. What happened isn't your fault. You're a kind person offering a nice meal to a lonely man. At the risk of changing the subject, what's your story?"

"There really isn't one," Steven said as he relayed the short version -- that he had a good job and a reasonably nice life, that none of his relationships had worked out (omitting that Julia's appearances were always at least a factor).

"It still sounds like you wish different things had happened for you."

"Maybe when I was younger, but there's a time and place for that and it's not when you're in your 30s."

"Hmm, maybe, maybe not," Bradley said as he finished his tea. "It's probably time I make my way home.

"Not a bad idea, a good idea to get home before the booze flow gets heavier and people get obnoxious."

As they stepped outside, Bradley said, "Thank you very much, Steven. I appreciated this, especially today."

"It wasn't that big a deal. I just thought you could use a friendly face for a bit. Say, can I call a ride for you?"

"No need. I live within walking distance." Bradley put his hand on Steven's shoulder. "You showed kindness to someone you didn't know today. You're a good person. Take care and be well."

Steven wasn't prone to pray much these days, but he offered one to any deity who might be listening to give Bradley some comfort for the coming year.

Later that evening, it wasn't Steven walking through the apartment, but Julia. She always let her exes think she wanted to be called Steph, a defense measure against letting them know who she really was. It worked, until Kara.

Julia had put herself together well, dressed perfectly for a New Year's Eve party. A party of one, which was just as well, since dysphoria-tinted glasses had her finding flaws in her face, her body, which wouldn't hold up to scrutiny.

By 11:00, she'd consumed a good deal of the wine. Fully self-medicated, she thought back to her father, a good man who passed away 10 years ago from cancer. They didn't catch it in time because he was reluctant to go to doctors. He was always a good man who Julia was always too afraid to tell who she was. She thought it would be one too many burdens for him as a single widower. She couldn't do it to him after he lost Mom.

"If only she were still here. I mean, I know what I should do. It's an easy resolution. Start living as Julia in 2024. But we both know resolutions always fail, right, Thanos?" as she gave scritches to her cat, ironically named because of his tiny size when she adopted him.

"Resolutions always fail," she repeated, falling into a deep sleep before the countdown.

December 31, 2002 (Day 1)

"Hey, beautiful."

"Unnnh, hey."

"You going to get up?

"Unnnnnh, do I have to?

"Ordinarily, no. But you did ask me to wake you up."

"Okay, fine," she said, while wondering, "Who is this guy?"

"I'll heat you up something for breakfast before while you shower, okay?" as he lovingly caressed her shoulder.

She didn't know who he was, who she was, but it felt nice, comfortable. As she went to shower, she could see that she was trans, not Julia, but somebody, shorter and more athletic, her hair cut into a chic blonde bob.

The shower felt good, soothing. Now, she needed to answer the 5 W's -- Who, What, When, Where, Why?

After toweling off, she went into the bedroom, opening drawers until she found clean panties and shorts. Spotting a nicely folded Phillies T-shirt, she pulled it over her head. Seeing a pair of women's jeans next to the bed, she found an ID. She had her first Who -- Katherine Anne Tanner, the woman with a blonde bob, born October 31, 1980.

Wait, 1980? There's no way that woman in the bathroom mirror was 43.

As Julia took Katherine into the living room. This cute guy (cute, definitely cute) said, "Not much longer!"

She took stock of her surroundings -- a computer that looked like a museum piece, the TV wasn't new, then she spied a Daily News on the coffee table. The headline cried "Murder Most Foul", she looked at the date.

"Holy shit, 21 years ago."

"Kate, breakfast is ready!"

She entered the kitchen, sat at the table. This guy looked athletic, not in a camped out at the gym way, but more in a "always on the go" way.

"Here you go, one omelette with spinach, goat cheese and mushroom. With toast."

She savored the first bite (cute and he can cook) as he was getting ready.

"Since I have the day off from the office, I'm going to hang out with Ryan at the lab for a while. He should be here any minute."

Cue Ryan knocking on the door. "Hey Elliott! You ready?"

"On my way," Elliott said, bending down to kiss Kate and said, "See you at 7. West 4th Street Stop, right?"

"You got it," she smiled, readying herself for a day of recon, a lot more Ws to fill in.

She got dressed enough to be able to go outside. Makeup could wait. She had to see where she was. Okay, clearly her parents or Elliott's parents, maybe both, had some money. This wasn't a palace, but it wasn't a cramped studio apartment.

By 5 or so, she knew more things, like the fact she, well, Kate, was a sociology major. It was fine to get ready, finding the right cute sweater. She wasn't used to doing makeup for someone else's face, but she managed. She arrived in the West Village early.

Elliott got there about 15 minutes later. She smiled, asking "How'd it go?"

Pop! Pop! She felt a huge pain in her chest, going down immediately against the chain link. She heard Elliott screaming her name, she felt the warmth of, is that blood? Then it all went black.

December 31, 2002 (Day 2)

"Hey, beautiful."

"Unnnh, hey."

Kate was immediately awake.

"I was just shot. Am I dead? Dreaming?"

She waited until Ryan and Elliott left, then went over everything again, seeing if she missed something. A bill popped out, addressed to Elliott Bradley. Bradley. Oh shit.

She hadn't put together that her cute boyfriend and the sad man at the restaurant were the same person. Bradley looked much older than his mid '40s, with the gray hair and long beard. His eyes. Well, she'd been shot to death. No wonder.

Elliott on the other hand had that "Going Places" look about him. He was kind, smart and so open. It was clear he wanted her to be part of where he went.

"I have to stop this. Okay, we can't meet at West 4th. But where, I'll call him and have him meet me at, the Spring Street stop. We can find a place on Kenmare or Delancey. Perfect."

As they walked down Lafayette to Kenmare, this time, she didn't even hear the shot.

December 31, 2002 (Day 3)

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hey, handsome."

Still at a loss, Kate knew that for some reason, this day kept resetting. And she knew leaving the apartment wasn't safe.

"I'm going to hang out with Ryan at the lab for a while."

"Do you have to? We've both been busy and I'd love to have a day that's just us alone."

"But we-"

"Please?" If Julia's feminine charms had lay dormant. Kate's were at 100 percent, not that Elliott needed much convincing.

Before long, Elliott was taking over. Really, they were trading leads.

Hours later, she thought, "Forget cute. He's hot and he loves me," then the realization hit: "Kara was so right. I'm not a lesbian."

Hours later, Kate, fully sated, got herself a glass of water. Being a woman felt more right than she ever thought it would be. If she ever got back, she'd keep that resolution. She cracked open the blinds, seeing a dark-haired man in a black turtleneck, then nothing.

December 31, 2002 (Day 4)

"I just have to keep myself occupied. Place to place, so he can't find me," Julia thought. "No. Kate. I have to be Kate while I'm here."

It hurt that she couldn't think of a way to see her dad again, even from a distance. She missed him so much. If only she'd been able to come out to him. And to warn him about the cancer.

But what was she supposed to say? "Oh, hi there. You don't know me, but I'm a blonde trans woman who knows your son is also trans because I'm him on the inside. And, by the way, you're going to get cancer in about 10 years so for God's sake get it checked earlier? Oh, and you want some stock tips?"

No, she kept screwing up trying to fix Kate's life, even if she was starting to be able to access more of her memories, enough to get by. She couldn't screw up her own in the process, if she even could get back to it in the first place. She might be stuck here. And if she is, is that fair to Ka-

"Stop, Julia! Focus on what you can control. For now, just be Kate. Be Kate."

She moved throughout the city, eventually settling on a movie. "'The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.' That's like, three hours long. Perfect."

Kate stepped out of the theater. Now, to take a cab far enough into Brooklyn that she could take a train home and arrive after midnight. Just make it to January 1.

So caught up in thought, Kate didn't notice that her cabbie, new to the job, had taken a wrong turn and they were on Sixth Avenue.

"Wait, are you supposed to be on-"

She spotted Elliott waiting there at the subway stop, then noticed Black Turtleneck. Before she could say anything, she saw the blood spray from Elliott's head before he crumpled to the ground.

"Stop the car!" she screamed, flinging the door open as she sprinted to him. "Elliott! No! No! No!No!" unable to to stop screaming, holding his body, trying in vain to will life back into his eyes.

December 31, 2002 (Day 5)

Her brain raced, "Elliott's the target, not me. I've been collateral damage. But if I died the first time, why was he still alive in 21 years? Did killing me accomplish the same thing? It had to have, somehow.

Or were Elliott and Bradley not the same person? No, they had to be. She couldn't unsee the resemblance now, let alone his kindness, his passion for life, everything. God. How could she be falling in love with a man when she's another person?

Kate didn't know what to think, but she had three options -- something to do with the school/lab stuff, something to do with his side job compiling data for the Carpenter Company or it's just some random sicko. She went with the lab first.

December 31, 2002 (Day 19)

This was getting old. She couldn't find any reason as to why someone wanted her boyfriend dead and it kept getting Elliott and/or herself killed.

The school lab was a dead end. It only succeeded in her getting into a few arguments with Elliott. He even broke up with her four days ago, or was it five? It was all becoming a blur.

She also got arrested twice, which absolutely sucked.

Then there were the days' inevitable outcomes, the trauma of knowing you'll likely die, along with the man you love. And you can't stop it. Not to mention the times she wasn't killed right away really hurt. This isn't what "live every day like it's your last" is supposed to mean.

Likewise, Elliott's job was part-time and just data accumulation and storage. Dead end. Then how do you stop a random creep?

"I need a break," she said, going on a walk. Somewhere near Union Square, she saw Black Turtleneck, who didn't see her. She followed at a discreet distance until she saw him enter an abandoned walk-up farther east.

She quietly entered. She looked in the basement for something to use as a weapon, finding something. She crept up to the fifth floor, hearing sounds from the apartment closest to stairs.

Pondering her best option, she saw the door opened to the left and he'd be looking towards the stairs.

It was risky, but what's the worst-case scenario? She gets killed again?

He opened the door on time to tail his target, never hearing Kate behind him. Julia channeling denial into baseball paid off, even if it wasn't a textbook swing with Black Turtleneck's height advantage. Lucky shot it may have been, but she only needed one. But too many movies, have to do it. Double tap. Done.

She found a duffle bag, putting the pipe, which now had a date with the Hudson River, in with the clothes. With stocking cap and scarf on, she left to meet Elliott.

Later that night, in bed next to him, the adrenaline having worn off she was traumatized. She went into sociology to help people, but she killed someone. "How am I supposed to go into therapy for this?"

But she did it to save Elliott and they were both sa-THUMP-- a figure entered and made their quickly to the bedroom.

"Kurt?"

"If I want things done, I guess I have to do it myself," said the man, who fired six shots. Kate only heard one.

December 31, 2002 (Day 20)

Kurt Oliver? Elliott's boss at Carpenter? But why?

At least here, she had an idea. She had a friend, Callie Thompson, who was a senior going into forensic accounting.

Taking out a new flash drive, she turned on Elliott's computer and looked for his Carpenter files. It took a while and she couldn't open them, but she had them.

"Callie, I need a big favor," she said, walking into Callie's room. "I think Elliott's stumbled across something bad and doesn't know it. Can you look at this for me?"

"I don't know if I can, because-"

"Please. I don't know where else to go."

"Okay, fine. Just lock the door please," Callie said, making quick work of the encryption. But finding something here won't be easy.

An hour later, Kate was startled by Callie yelling, "Holy shit!"

Callie explained as best she could. "It wasn't something Elliott would have reason to look for. This is above my pay grade, but this is beyond white collar and I'd bet Elliott's boss isn't at the top of the chain. For one thing, he had to have had this in there by mistake or he must be the stupidest person on the face of the Earth. You'd need to be able to get it off him wherever he has it, to be sure though."

Sadly, Kate realized she couldn't save Elliott tonight, but now she knew what she was looking for and where to look.

December 31 (Day 29)

Kate hated it, but she couldn't bear to be near Elliott, not being able to know him more because of the time crunch, the inevitable doom each night. She truly felt the pain he still had 21 years from now, reliving it every day.

But she had a job to do. Two days of staking out Kurt Oliver's place and six more worth of a crash course from Callie and she knew the window she had to work with and how to use it. She hoped.

"Shit! Nothing! This can't be right," Kate fumed. There was nothing on his computer, but he had to be arrogant enough to keep something somewhere.

No, nothing. She looked up in frustration, wandering around. When she looked in the bathroom, she saw a corner of the ceiling in the bathroom where the color was whiter. She got a chair, stood and pressed at and realized it concealed a small compartment just big enough to hide -- "There it is! An external hard drive."

Kate looked at her watch, "Dammit, the time. I have to put it back. But tomorrow, tomorrow's the day."

December 31, 2002 (Day 34)

It took more time than that, first to get a delivery uniform, to better cover her entry into Oliver's place. It was a quick trip to her parents place to drop the car back off and a brisk walk to the nearest LIRR station.

Once she got out of Penn Station, she pulled out a burner cell to reach an FBI agent named Roger Holliday (a man whose name it took three more days of getting shot to death, twice seeing Elliott go first, to find).

At first, he didn't seem interested until she rattled off a list of names, including one she and Bradley had talked about in a very different context in 2023.

She let him know exactly where he could find the external hard drive --in one of the farthest corners of a very specific library at NYU.

Having ditched the hoodie and delivery uniform in some dumpster along the way, she was a nondescript woman biding her time at a restaurant near the Carpenter Building when--

"Katie, so good to see you!"

"Mom?"

"Happy new year," Susan Tanner said, sitting down. "This is a nice surprise. How are you?"

"Um, fine. Kind of busy."

"I can imagine. You and Elliott are always doing something. I'm so glad you two found each other."

"Me, too," Kate said, as she made furtive glances at the building where Oliver worked. She kept doing so while doing her best to follow her conversation with Susan. She could tell she had a good heart, more outgoing, but otherwise a lot like Julia remembered of her mother.

As their talk wound down, Susan said, "You seem distracted. Are you okay, Kate?"

"Definitely. I couldn't be better."

"My dear, you are a wonderful daughter capable of so many things, but one thing you are not good at is lying."

"I've just been thinking about how good my life's been and how precious it is. I've been thinking about how I got here. You held strong until Dad came around on me," Kate said, looking directly at Susan. "Mom, when I told you I was really a girl, you believed me. You saw me. I'll always be grateful you did. You saved my life."

"Why wouldn't I believe you? It's my job, no, my honor to be a loving parent, as it was to be to your brother and sister. But I am glad you're with us among the living," Susan said, giving her watch a look. "Oh, dear. I should get going. I'm supposed to meet your father in less than an hour and I don't want to be late."

"Go, Mom. I'll call you later this week. Maybe Elliott and I could come over for dinner?"

"Great, I'll even make you and your father's favorite. It is perfect weather for meatloaf, after all. Happy New Year," Susan said, leaving money for the bill and kissing her daughter on the cheek as she left.

As she fished out money for the tip, Kate started to see vehicles with flashing lights pull up to the building. NYPD and judging from the vests on the first two guys out of a van-- FBI.

"Oh, please, oh please," she thought, making her away outside, joining a small, but growing group of onlookers across the street.

After the longest 30 minutes of her life, well, this one, she saw two agents escorting Oliver out, looking ashen and having no idea what hit him.

"Got you, you son of a bitch."

Farther down the street, a man in a black turtleneck and brown coat watched impassively. He saw the man who was supposed to give him his additional payment being put into the back of a police car. He had half the money, not bad for a job he wouldn't be able to carry out.

He turned and walked away, deciding to get some soup dumplings before leaving town. Seeing a parking spot off at Canal Street, he decided to walk the rest of the way.

"Binky! My dog! Binky!"

Black Turtleneck saw the little dog sprint past him towards Canal Street. He instinctively chased after it. He didn't notice the box between two cars that caused him to tumble off-balance towards the street as Binky changed direction back to the sidewalk right to a helpful samaritan who snagged her leash. What he did notice, and it would be the last thing he ever did, was the oncoming MTA bus that was about to run him over.

"Elliott, there you are," Kate said, rushing up to greet him at the West 4th Street stop. She kissed him, looking around and seeing nothing, she did it again, even more passionately.

"Say, Kate. I'm a bit hungry. Let's go across the street and I'll grab a couple slices from Joe's. Sound good?"

"Perfect," she said. Still looking, still seeing nothing but revelers, couples, a stray tourist or thirty going about their business. No Black Turtleneck.

"Let's go over there to eat," she said, motioning across the street to Father Demo Square.

Elliott replied, "Exactly what I was thinking," sprinting across ahead of her because he spied open spots on the nearest bench.

"Easy there, Maurice Greene," she laughed as she caught up to him at the bench. Taking a bite of the pizza, she said, "Mmm. So good. This all is."

"Couldn't agree more," he said as they finished their pizza silently enjoying each others company, holding each others free hands, Kate putting her head on his shoulder.

"You know, I was going to wait until we got home, but this feels as good a time as any," as he pulled his hand away from Kate's.

"Elliott, what are you doing?"

"Kate, you'll see. You know, these two years have been the best of my life. You are beyond special. I love you for who you've been, who you are and who you're going to be. I want to be with you the rest of my life and-"

"Oh my, God, Elliott!" she cried, seeing him open up the case. "Yes! The answer is 'Yes'!"

The two kissed again for what felt like forever. Feeling safe for the first time in months, looking at the ring on her finger, Kate kissed him again.

January 1, 2024

"Mmmmmmmmm," Julia murmured as she stretched in the cocooned warmth underneath her blankets. "This feels so good, I could just stay here all day."

She shifted onto her right side, embracing a pillow.

An itch on her left breast, she scratched it. Breast.

"What the hell?"

Julia brushed hair away from her eyes. "I don't have long hair ("Yes, you do"). And it's brunette?

She sat up, pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the mirror on her bedroom wall. It wasn't Kate in the mirror. Julia could see Steven there, but softer, the hair not just longer, but fuller. She stepped back, seeing not just the breasts ("C cup, just like my first roommate at college"), but hips, like actual curves.

"Oh. My. God. Wait, I need to get my phone." Sitting on the bed again, she turned it on as a purring Bucky went back and forth nuzzling her shins.

"Where are they? Please be out there somewhere." Searching and, here's something, an article. "NYU Professor Celebrates 15 Years."

She thumbed through the story seeing the details -- "student with aspirations of becoming inventor", "girlfriend Kate inspired him to teach instead", "Kate Bradley, director of center for at-risk LGBTQ youth", "live on the Upper West side with their two children, Alex (17) and Julia (15)."

"They made it. I'm so glad that Elliott's happy. And I didn't screw up things for Kate! And, naming a girl Julia, did she know that I was there?" she said, crying in relief as the door opened.

"Hey, Darling."

"Hey yourself, Gorgeous," she said, wiping away tears and getting up to greet Zach ("How do I know his name?").

She gave him a loving kiss.

"If I'm going to get a reception that like that, I clearly need to shop more often," Zach quipped. "By the way, I talked to your parents. They'll be here with Jay around 4:00."

"Great," Julia said, looking around the living room. Pictures on the mantle -- on trips with Zach, who she met at a work conference ten years ago. She was smitten quickly and so was he. He didn't flinch when it came time for the "There's something I need to tell you" talk.

Then the pics of their wedding three years later-- Dad walking her down the aisle, her and Jay, her stepbrother, as kids and at McCarren Park last year.

"How is Dad still here? And who's Karen? Karen, she and Dad met at a parents support group while Jay and I were in the trans support group. She must have gotten Dad to the doctor earlier."

The gaps in her memory began to fill, beginning to take over what she recalled of Steven's old life, at least since 2002.

While she could remember to, she looked up Kurt Oliver and found that he'd flipped in the case, only to "mysteriously disappear" when he broke witness protection to try to see his ailing mother. A lot of the names she told Holliday about went down for it, all the key ones, including combover guy.

Later, she'd have no idea why she searched for a story on a loving couple named Elliott and Kate Bradley, the professor and the tireless LGBTQ advocate. But while she still remembered, she resolved to show them gratitude for her life.

She gave Zach a look with love and desire turned up to ten. "You know, if they're going to be here at 4, we have plenty of time to-"

"Julia, you read my mind."

She followed him into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Epilogue, December 31, 2002

Waiting for his son to come back from the restroom so they could order, he heard voices around the corner.

"Mom, when I told you I was really a girl, you believed me. You saw me. I'll always be grateful you did. You saved my life."

"Why wouldn't I believe you? It's my job, no, my honor..."

He looked up from the menu to see his 12-year-old son sitting down. "So, kid, what would you like?"

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

He now knew what to say. The words came out of George Kelly's mouth as he held his child's tensely-clasped hands. "Whatever it is, I love you, see you and believe you, okay?"

Reassured, Steven said, "Dad. I'm a girl."