"Happy birthday dear Robbie..." The modest crowd cheered as the blond-haired boy cringed. "Happy birthday to you!" Robbie grinned widely as he leaned down and blew out the sixteen candles on his plain chocolate cake, before grimacing as he braced himself for the inevitable.

Robbie had always had mixed feelings about his birthday being at the start of August. On the one hand, it meant he was younger than virtually everyone in her school year, but on the other hand, it also meant that his birthday was guaranteed to fall in the school holidays. But on the other hand again, it also meant that he was never alone on his birthday, even when he wanted to be...

"Happy birthday then, you little shit!" Robbie's brother Jack, 6 and a half years his senior, said teasingly as he gave Robbie a tight hug, which tightened each time the teenager protested.

"Sixteen at last!" Danny, another of Robbie's brothers, this time eight years his senior, teased. "Finally gonna get your leg over then?"

"Don't be so thick," Shaun, Robbie's oldest brother at over 10 years his senior, scoffed. "Rob's already shagged loads of girls, haven't you Rob?"

"Boys!" The for young men's mother scolded, making the three older boys laugh and roll their eyes while their younger brother blushed. "Robbie will get a girlfriend when he's good and ready. Besides, he's starting sixth form in a month's time, there'll be plenty of time to get a girlfriend then, won't there?"

"Yeah," Robbie nervously chuckled, even though deep down, he was hiding a secret that he would never dare reveal, not to his brothers and especially not to his mother.

For as long as he could remember, Robbie had liked girls, but not in the same way as his brothers. While they were obsessed with getting with every girl they saw, Robbie was obsessed with trying to be every girl he saw. At school, he would fantasise about wearing the short grey skirts and black tights preferred by the girls in his class. When out shopping, he would fantasise about wearing the thick make-up, fake tan and fancy jewellery favoured by the older teenaged girls he saw. And he always, always wished he could grow his hair longer than the short, fashionable cut forced upon him by his mother. And yet, as much as he ached to be able to be a girl, even if it was for only one day, Robbie knew that such wishes were in vain. His mother wouldn't understand, and his brothers would never, ever accept him as their sister instead of their brother.

There were even days, though, when Robbie worried that his brothers wouldn't even accept him as that. For all his life, his brothers had been a team, while he had been the outsider in the family. This feeling was only amplified by the fact that Shaun, Danny and Jack were full brothers to each other, but only half-brothers to him. Their mother had met their father in the early eighties, married and had three boys, only to separate at the end of that decade. In 1992, their mother met another man, married him the following year and gave birth to Robbie two years later. However, by the turn of the millennium, she had separated once again, leaving Robbie to be raised alone by his mother-- and by three older brothers who he believed saw him as a constant reminder of why their father isn't in their life as much as they'd like. Robbie barely saw his father either- he certainly wasn't at his sixteenth birthday party, having only sent along a card with a twenty pound note inside, though from what Robbie inferred from stories told by his brothers, he was lucky to even get that. His mother and brothers had been far more generous, though- Robbie received over £200 in cash from the four of them combined, as well as tickets to the Community Shield match at Wembley that Sunday, a pile of DVDs and clothes, lots of clothes. Clothes that included new designer shirts, a pair of fashionable jeans, three new t-shirts, a pair of smart black shoes and absolutely nothing any teenaged girl would ever even dream of wearing.

"Thank you," Robbie forced himself to say as it dawned on him that for the sixteenth year in a row, he was facing the prospect of hiding the girl he truly was inside. "Thank you all so much for this, this has been the best birthday yet!" Because there isn't much competition, Robbie self-pityingly thought to himself.

"So what d'you reckon for Sunday, then?" Jack asked. "How much are United going to beat Man Shitty by, then?"

"Oh, at least 2 goals, probably 3," Robbie replied with a genuine smile- one of the few things he and his brothers could agree on was that Manchester United were indisputably the best football team in England. It was just a pity for Robbie that they could rarely agree on anything else...

That Sunday, Robbie and his brothers travelled to Wembley stadium, where after a long, tense game, their beloved United ran out 3-2 winners over their local rivals. After the match, the four brothers headed to a nearby bar, where the sixteen-year-old boy listened intently to his brothers' dissection of the game, nodding in agreement when he was expected to and laughing at the unflattering descriptions of the opposition's players. However, as hard as he tried- and he did genuinely try his hardest, both for his brothers' sake and his own- he was simply unable to enjoy the day out, instead fixating on what could have been had he been born a girl. 'She' would've been out shopping with 'her' girlfriends, or going to a beauty salon for a makeover, or on a romantic date with 'her' boyfriend...

Robbie consoled himself with the knowledge that he would soon be heading back to his home, which his brothers had all moved out of years earlier. The following day, Robbie's mother would be at work, meaning he would be home alone, which meant he could do the one thing that always eased his stress- trying on his mother's clothes.

It was something Robbie did rarely, never more than once a month at the most, and he never wore anything that would 'give the game away' such as underwear or make-up, but the mere act of pulling on one of his mother's skirts made Robbie feel stronger in a way even he couldn't explain, as though it was his destiny to wear the skirt. And every time the time came for him to remove the skirt, he suddenly felt like he was 3 inches tall. But for that one brief moment, Robbie could forget all his troubles and not just pretend, but believe that he didn't have to be a son or a brother.

However, when Robbie returned home, he discovered that even that simple pleasure was going to be denied to him.

"Hi Robbie!" The sixteen-year-old boy's mother said with a grin as he walked through the front door. "Good match?"

"Umm, yeah," Robbie replied. "United won 3-2, that was the most important thing."

"Heh," Robbie's mother chuckled. "Did you enjoy your drink at the pub with your brothers after?" The middle-aged woman smiled sympathetically and gave her son a hug as the young boy remained silent, his defeated body language telling her all she needed to know. "It's okay, I know how hard that is for you." You don't know the half of it, Robbie thought to himself. "Sometimes I just wish they'd leave you alone and let you be the person you REALLY want to be." You REALLLY don't know the half of it, Robbie thought to himself with a self-pitying sigh. Though at least, Robbie thought to himself, there was something that could be done about that.

"What- what time are you heading out to work tomorrow?" Robbie asked.

"I'm not," the young man's mother replied with a smug smile that didn't falter as his whole body slumped. "Got the whole of next week off. And the week after that, too!"

"Wh- why?" Robbie asked, trying desperately to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"One last birthday present," Robbie's mother said with a smile. "Me, and you, and two weeks... In Paris!"

"P- Paris!?" Robbie asked disbelievingly.

"Paris!" Robbie's mother giggled. "I thought, well, you worked so hard on your GCSEs, you deserved a break from everything. Especially your brothers, heh!" Okay, can't argue with THAT, Robbie thought to himself. "So, we're going off to France for two weeks, figured we'd see the sights, the Eiffel Tower, maybe Disneyland... Oh, come on, you've always said you wanted to see Paris, didn't you? And it'll give you a good head start on your French A Level, won't it?"

"Well- yes," Robbie replied, even though all he could think about was how two weeks in France was two weeks in which he'd never get to express his feminine side, not even for a second. "We going by plane or train?"

"Train," Robbie's mother replied. "Got to be at St Pancras by 12:30pm tomorrow. And don't worry, I've already packed two suitcases for you. All you need to do is relax and enjoy the holiday. And I have a feeling it might just be the best holiday you ever have!" Fat chance of that, Robbie thought to himself as he forced a smile on his face and headed up to his bedroom, sighing at the sight of the two large suitcases parked outside it. Robbie let out a tired sigh as he entered the room and crashed down on his bed, grabbing his laptop in the hope that it'd take his mind off of his malaise.

While occasionally wearing his mother's clothes offered a great deal of relief for Robbie, it wasn't a solution he could call on on a day to day basis- it needed careful planning, care when putting everything back to ensure it was exactly as it had been left, and most importantly, it needed his mother to be out of the house when it happened. The internet, however, was a solution that Robbie could access whenever he needed it, and after his return from Wembley, he needed it more than ever.

Of course, his mother's parental controls meant that 'adult' websites were blocked to him, but Robbie had long since learned to make the most of what was available to him, particularly from his favourite website- eBay.

Robbie opened up the auction website on his laptop and immediately started browsing the women's fashion pages, imagining his young body sliding into the many skirts on dresses that were on sale, before browsing to the lingerie pages and fantasising about clipping one of the bras on sale behind his back, or relishing the feeling of one of the skimpy thongs sliding between his buttocks or the feeling of rolling a soft pair of tights up his legs. Within minutes, though, Robbie had browsed to his favourite part of eBay- the costumes listings. Robbie gazed over pages of French Maid costumes, Hooters uniforms, Showgirl costumes and his favourite of all- Playboy Bunny costumes. He swore to himself that when he was older, and earning his own money, he would somehow buy every costume he found on the site. Even if he only wore each costume once each, merely owning them and having the ability to wear them whenever he wanted would make his life infinitely more bearable.

The following morning, Robbie woke early and dragged both of his suitcases out to the waiting taxi, and after a short train ride to London, he and his mother were on the much longer train ride to Paris. As Robbie gazed out of the window at the Kent countryside, all he could think about was how each mile away from home was another mile away from being the girl he wanted to be. As the train emerged from the French side of the Channel Tunnel, Robbie told himself that there was no sense in sulking, that he had always wanted to visit Paris and the two weeks may well turn out to be the best holiday he'd ever had. However, as he quickly reminded himself, there was only one thing that would make the holiday the best ever- and that simply wasn't going to happen.

"Here we are!" Robbie's mother said with a smile as she and her son dragged their cases into the modest twin room that would be their home for the next twelve days. "Sorry I couldn't get up separate rooms, but I did have to save money somewhere, heh!"

"It- it's great," Robbie mumbled in reply. "Really, you've gone to a lot of trouble, I- thank you. Really, this-- this is great." Robbie smiled confusedly as a knowing look spread across his mother's face.

"Why don't you get unpacked," Robbie's mother said. Nodding and trying to suppress a sigh, Robbie dumped one of his suitcases on the bed, though when he opened it, his facial expression immediately changed to one of confusion.

"Umm... Mum?" Robbie said as he gazed at the suitcase's contents.

"Yes...?" Robbie's mother replied with a smug grin.

"I think- I think you may have packed the wrong case..." Robbie mumbled as his mother stood next to him and looked into the suitcase.

"Are you sure?" Robbie's mother asked as she reached into the suitcase and pulled out a floaty, light blue summer dress. "Are you really, really sure?"

"M-mum?" Robbie asked.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Robbie's mother asked.

"Notice?" Robbie asked, his voice increasing in pitch with every word he said.

"Sometimes, when I came home," Robbie's mother explained, "I'd head up to my bedroom to get changed and I'd notice that a few things were 'off'. A dress wouldn't be hung the way I'd hung it, or one of my skirts would be creased. I didn't think anything of it at first, then I noticed that every time it happened, it was a time when you'd be left at home alone." the sixteen year old boy felt tears form in his eyes as his face started to burn with embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry..." Robbie meekly mumbled.

"No- no, god," Robbie's mother sighed, wrapping the reluctant teenager in a tight hug. "I- I just- heh. I dunno. That's why I brought that suitcase, I- I figured that I could, you know, surprise you, and if I was wrong, the other suitcase has all your 'boy clothes' in it, so no harm done..."

"So- so you're not angry?" Robbie asked hopefully.

"Why would I be angry?" The young man's mother replied. "Okay, maybe you did wear my clothes without permission, but you had to have a reason, I mean, you didn't- I mean, you did it because you... You always wanted to be a girl, right?" Robbie gulped before answering. This was a make or break moment, he could either deny his mother's suspicions, dismiss them as misguided and spend the holiday in his boring boy clothes, or he could confirm them, and finally get to present HERself to her mother the way SHE always wanted to- and from what the older woman was saying, Robbie inferred that the clothes weren't just for the holiday, if he so wished.

"...Yes," Robbie whispered, tears flowing freely from his eyes as his mother hugged him again.

"Oh god, Robbie," the young man's mother sighed. "You know, you COULD have told me this earlier..."

"I didn't know what you'd say," Robbie mumbled.

"I'd have said 'I'm lucky to have such a great daughter'," Robbie's mother replied. "But- but I get what you're saying. You did a very, very brave thing telling me. And if you don't want to wear any of the clothes in this suitcase on your holiday, then that's fine, but they'll always be there when you get home, if you need them. And if you're worrying about your brothers, don't. You have to live your life the way YOU want. You're not there to be bossed around by them. If they say anything, I'll back you up. Always."

"Th- thanks," Robbie sniffled, before steeling himself. "And- and I want- I want to wear the clothes in this suitcase on this holiday."

"I thought you might," Robbie's mother said with a proud smile. "So go ahead, pick out an outfit!" Robbie grinned as he went through the suitcase's contents, pulling out several dresses, skirts and tops, as well as girl's underwear and even a one-piece swimsuit in his size. At the bottom of the suitcase was a small carrier bag, the contents of which he immediately recognised.

"I- I've never worn make-up before," Robbie stammered as he picked through the tubes of mascara and lipstick that were in the bag.

"Okay," Robbie's mother said. "I didn't know for sure, but that's okay, anything you want to know, I'm happy to teach you. Heh, I'd always hoped one day that I'd get to teach my daughter how to properly apply make-up... After you came along, fourth boy of four, that didn't seem possible. Thank you for making my dream a reality." Despite himself, Robbie let out a snort of laughter at his mother's statement- he was so focussed on his own dream coming true that it had never occurred to him that his mother might have wanted a daughter. Any doubt Robbie had in his mother's sincerity evaporated when she sat down next to him in front of the hotel room's mirror and talked him through how to properly apply every item of make-up in his bag, and within a few minutes, Robbie had grasped the basics.

"Beautiful," Robbie's mother said as she stared at her son's made-up face for the first time. "I'm not just saying that Robbie, you really would make a beautiful girl."

"Thanks," Robbie giggled nervously.

"So what do you say?" Robbie's mother asked. "Want to take that beautiful face onto the streets of Paris?" Robbie froze as his mother asked what was a simple question- playing with make-up in the privacy of a hotel room was one thing, but heading out in public? That was another ball game entirely.

"Umm, I-" Robbie stammered. "I, umm, I'd need to shave my legs first, I mean, and, umm, I'd need-"

"Tell you what," Robbie's mother said, calming her child down. "We'll spend this first day in the hotel room. We'll get your legs shaved, and your arms if you want, I'll teach you anything you want to know about how to pass as a woman, then tomorrow, if you feel up to it, we'll go out and explore Paris as mother and daughter. Deal?"

"D- deal," Robbie said with a smile. "But..."

"But...?" Robbie's mother asked.

"I- umm, you can't call me, you know, 'Robbie' when my face looks like this, right?" Robbie asked.

"Well-no, I suppose I can't," Robbie's mother mused. "We could say it's short for 'Roberta'?"

"What kind of sixteen-year-old girl's called 'Roberta'?" The teenager asked.

"Okay," Robbie's mother said, frowning at her child's indignance. "How about 'Robin'?"

"Still sounds like it could be a boy's name," the teenager shrugged.

"I've got it!" Robbie's mother said with a grin. "How about we just drop the 'R' entirely?"

"What, 'Obbie'?" The teenager asked.

"How about 'Abbey'?" The teenager's mother asked, standing back with a grin as her child considered the suggested name.

"Abbey," the teenager whispered, a smile creeping across her scarlet-coloured lips. "Abbey... I- I like it. 'Abbey Watkins'... It, you know, sounds nice."

"Nice to meet you, Abbey Watkins!" The teenager's mother said with a grin.

"Nice to meet you too!" Abbey replied with a smile as she felt her whole body start to relax.

As promised, the rest of the day was spent in the hotel room preparing Abbey for her 'debut'. Every hair was shaved clean off of her legs, arms and torso, she applied and reapplied her make-up over and over until she could do it with her eyes closed, and she even practised walking in the 2" wedge heeled sandals her mother had brought her for the holiday.

Abbey barely slept that night, she was so excited about her grand day out the following day. Her alarm went off at 7am, but she was awake a long time beforehand, going back and forth through her new outfits, trying to decide which one to wear on her big day.

Eventually, after much discussion with her mother, Abbey settled on a cute lace-fringed white tank top and a short denim skirt, along with her new wedge-heeled sandals. Under the skirt, she wore a comfortable (but tight enough to discourage any 'unwanted movement') pair of panties and a bra padded just enough to give her chest an appropriate 'shape' for a sixteen year old girl, and her face was made up just as immaculately as it had been the previous night. With her hair styled by her mother, Abbey looked just like any other sixteen-year-old girl walking through the streets of the French capital- and she had never, ever been happier. And, much to her surprise, her mother was happier than she'd ever looked in her life.

"Thank you SO much for all this," Abbey whispered as she tried not to cry and ruin her mascara.

"Thank YOU," Abbey's mother replied with a proud smile. "Now come on, Paris awaits! And who knows, maybe you'll catch the attention of some handsome French boy? Umm, assuming- assuming you do, you know, 'prefer' boys... Right?"

"Only the ones who 'prefer' me," Abbey replied with a confident smile.

"Which is every boy with a pulse and a brain cell," Abbey's mother retorted, making her daughter giggle.

"Guess I can afford to be picky, then!" Abbey said, smiling as she and her mother set out to explore the vast city.

Abbey spent every remaining second of her Paris trip in 'girl mode', never leaving her hotel room without a full face of make-up and wearing a cute skirt or dress. Even when she was asleep, Abbey was in 'girl mode', thanks to the nightdress that her mother bought on their first day in Paris. And yet, Abbey couldn't help but feel sad, especially as her holiday was drawing to an end. On their final day in Paris, Abbey openly wept tears of despair as she was forced to return her clothes to her suitcase, scrub her face clean of make-up and pull on the boring, plain jeans and t-shirt she had worn when she arrived in France.

"Oh- oh god, Abbey..." The distraught teenager's mother sighed as she wrapped her child in a loving hug.

"No," Abbey sobbed, before letting out a quiet wail of pain. "Not 'Abbey', just 'Robbie'..."

"To me, you'll always be Abbey," the boy's mother reassured her son. "And anytime you want to be Abbey at home, you just say the word, okay?"

"And what if Sean, Danny or Jack choose that moment to drop round?" Robbie sniffled.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Robbie's mother replied. "And no matter what they say, I promise I will be on your side, okay?"

"O- okay," Robbie sighed.

"Rob- no, not Robbie, Abbey," Robbie's mother defiantly said. "You've been happier the last two weeks than I've ever, ever seen you. And it's not just 'cause we're in Paris, we could've gone to Margate and if you'd had the clothes you wore on this holiday you'd have been happy."

"...Probably," Robbie shrugged.

"Definitely," Robbie's mother said. "so if you ever decide you want to, you know..."

"...What?" Robbie asked.

"If you want to, you know, make it a permanent arrangement?" Robbie's mother asked.

"What, you mean, like, have a sex change" Robbie asked. "Isn't that a bit, you know, extreme?"

"Is wanting to be happy in your own skin 'extreme'?" Robbie's mother retorted, smiling as her child offered no answer. "Whatever you decide, I will support you. Always. I promise."

"Thanks, mum," Robbie said softly as he packed away 'Abbey's clothes for the long train ride home.

However, the clothes didn't remain in the suitcase for long. Within minutes of arriving back in Basildon, 'Robbie' had become 'Abbey' once again and stayed that way for the rest of the summer holiday- but only while at home, and only when their mother was the only one in the house. Out in public, the teenager presented as 'Robbie'. When they returned to school in September, it was as 'Robbie'. When they got a job after completing their A-levels, it was as 'Robbie'. The last three birthdays of their teenage years were celebrated as 'Robbie', along with the Christmases of 2011, 2012, 2013 and 2014. However, on each of those occasions, their mother ensured that 'Abbey' had just as many, if not more presents to open than 'Robbie'- and she knew deep down that 'Abbey' appreciated her presents far more than 'Robbie' ever could.

By the start of 2015, 'Robbie' was just a face 'Abbey' wore when out in public. She considered 'Abbey' to be her 'real' persona, as did her mother, while her brothers remained blissfully unaware of their youngest sibling's double life. However, Abbey was determined that before the end of the year, 'Robbie' would become a thing of her past- and at the end of January, she arranged a job interview that she hoped would ensure just that.

Abbey took a deep breath as she once again walked through the streets of the city where 'she' had been reborn. However, instead of her floaty tops, denim skirts and wedge sandals, she wore a plain black pencil skirt, semi-opaque black tights, a smart white blouse and court shoes with a 2.5" heel. The look made her look far older than her nineteen and a half years, but she hoped that instead of 'old', the men she was in Paris to meet would look at her and think 'professional'.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Watkins," the middle-aged man said, shaking Abbey's hand as she sat down opposite him. "Je m'appelle Robert Marotte, et bienvenue a Soixante-Trois Industries."

"Merci," Abbey replied with a nervous smile as the interview began.

24 hours later, Abbey was sat beside her mother on their sofa as her brothers stared at her in disbelief.

"What," Shaun scoffed. "Is this- is this some kind of sick joke?"

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" Abbey's mother snapped back at her youngest son, while supportively gripping her daughter's hand.

"So what, you approve of HIM running off to Paris to play at being a poof?" Danny sneered.

"SHE is making a career for herself," Abbey's mother growled. "Which is more than could ever have been said for you!"

"Can- can I speak?" Abbey asked in her practised feminine voice, feeling her body shake as her brothers laughed and sneered at the sound of the new voice coming out of her mouth.

"Not anymore, you can't," Jack snorted, earning laughs from his brothers that quickly stopped following a stern gaze from their mother- and from their new sister as well.

"This isn't just who I always wanted to be," Abbey explained. "This is who I've always been, right from the start. This isn't a sudden change. This has been me for the last 3 and a half years."

"Then why is this the first we're hearing about it?" Shaun asked.

"Really?" Abbey sneered. "After the way you've spoken to me today, you really need to ask that question?" The 19-year-old girl paused as her brothers fell silent, unable to respond to her.

"It still isn't right," Danny mumbled.

"That's not your choice to make," Abbey said defiantly. "It's mine. I'm going to Paris. I'm going to be a flight attendant. You can either like it or lump it."

"And it you don't like it," Abbey's mother said in a voice just below a shout, "then you ain't welcome in this house anymore!" Abbey bit her scarlet-coloured lip as her brothers paused, before sighing and leaving the house together. Abbey let out a pained sigh as she slumped back onto the sofa, softly weeping as her mother wrapped her arms around her.

"I- I'm sorry, mum," Abbey sobbed.

"Shh, shh," Abbey's mother said. "They'll come round. If I have to smack some sense into them, I will. If you should be apologising for anything, it's flying off to Paris just as I've got used to having a daughter!"

"Heh," Abbey sighed. "I- I'm sorry about that..."

"I was joking, Abbey!" Abbey's mother chuckled. "Of course you should find your own way, you're an adult now, you're a grown WOMAN. And it's only right that you'd find work in Paris, I mean, that's where it all began, right?"

"Heh, yeah," Abbey chuckled. "So you- you don't mind, you know, being alone...?"

"Alone?" Abbey's mother scoffed. "The way your brothers go through girlfriends I'll probably be neck deep in grandchildren by this time next year!"

"Heh," Abbey giggled, hugging her mother one more time and not wanting to let go, knowing that it would be one of their last hugs for a long time.

The following day, Abbey's mother went with her daughter to St Pancras station to see her off, both women weeping only as the train pulled away. Within hours, Abbey was pulling on her new uniform for the first time. While the regulation underwear excited Abbey, particularly the lacy corset, she felt the fitted blue pencil skirt and blazer was a little plain for her tastes. It was no Playboy Bunny uniform, but it would more than do for now, especially as if what Abbey had heard was true, she would be far from the only 'alternative' girl wearing the uniform at the airline.

Abbey had only barely taken her seat in the seminar hall, ready to begin her training, when her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle American accent behind her.

"Hi," the American girl, who was blonde like Abbey, said as she extended a hand for the Englishwoman to shake. "You must be Abbey. I'm Jessica Tyler, I'll be your mentor!"

"Hi!" Abbey replied as she fidgeted in her tight skirt. "I'm really, REALLY nervous..."

"Don't be," Jessica said with a warm smile. "Go into this with the attitude that you CAN, and you WILL. There isn't a single problem you're not able to rise above."

"Too right," Abbey whispered to herself. "And I'm not done rising yet-- not by a long way!"