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It’s dark when Caitlyn makes it back to her room. Shoes in one hand, the bottom of her dress collected in the other. Thankful to be home. Thankful for the quiet of the empty house. Revelling in the silence that is almost deafening.
The gala she had left was still in full swing across town, but she’d had enough. Had started to feel a familiar unease creeping up her spine. Opting to leave rather than push on through like she has done countless times before in order to keep those around her satisfied. Always expected to present with grace and an air of femininity at all times. Not to be meek but to be strong in her flowing gown and heels. An expectation that sometimes just didn’t feel right to her. An expectation that has no room in society for anything different.
Changing out of her royal blue gown, Caitlyn opts for what her mother would describe as a ratty T-shirt and a pair of her comfiest joggers. The galas often leave her feeling like something is missing, something just…off. She had always just attributed it to the fact that, although on the outside they seemed like the pinnacle of elegance, really they were stuffy and full of rules to follow.
There’s a restlessness that seems to settle over her. One she hasn’t felt in years, a feeling that came with the turmoil of releasing that no matter how much she tried, she’d never conform to the society she had been raised in. Choosing to defy the path set out before her. Choosing to turn down every male suitor presented to her in favour of one redheaded, feisty boxer. Not only were they not cut from the same cloth as Caitlyn according to her peers, but she was not who they had chosen for her. Vi had never been their ideal.
No one ever said the words to her, it didn't really matter at the end of the day that Caitlyn was gay. It was more that the person she had chosen was not someone who could further Piltovian society. In fact her Vi hated it, despised it. Caitlyn couldn't fault them for that. So, she often found herself at these events alone, only there out of the sheer obligation of being a Kiramman.
The galas of late had left her feeling hollow. Like she was missing something. She just couldn't quite put a finger on it. Vi had tried to help understand but the conversations had often looped round in circles for hours, making no headway on the understanding of the feelings she’d experienced in the small hours of the night, or when someone called her pretty, gorgeous. There were days where it felt so right to her and then others when the words felt abrasive, sneering. As if she was four again racing through the house in a pair of her mothers shoes that were far too big. They just didn’t seem to fit, but she didn’t reject them altogether.
Too antsy to sleep, Caitlyn turns the radio on. Turning the volume down low so the noise is really only there to mix with the silence, to dissipate the loneliness and anxiety that is creeping in. She’d chosen to only turn the small lamps on, casting a soft glow in the room. Comforting, safe. Almost as good as being wrapped up in Vi’s arms in the late night.
It works. The feeling starts to shift, maybe it was just the gala. Maybe it was the need to be prim and proper for the evening. Unable to make the jokes she wanted, the phrases that came naturally to her, talk to the people she enjoyed the conversation from.
The deep mellow voice of the radio dj floating through the room. Not focusing on the words but allowing the tone to guide her, allowing the tensions of the evening to wash away as Caitlyn lies on her bed.
Starting to drift, it’s the sound of soft guitar that brings Caitlyn back. She’s not fully sure why it’s the start of a song on the radio, turned so quiet it’s more background noise than anything else that catches her attention. When the verse starts, the song has her full attention.
She listens intently and when the closing lines of the first verse come, Caitlyn almost feels as though she’s had the wind knocked out of her.
Mamma never said I was second-best
She loved her tomboy in a sequin dress
That’s it. That’s the feeling. The idea that she can have both. She can still be feminine in her way. Not in the way Piltover dictates. In a way that draws in what people have told her is too masculine.
Her parents have always been so supportive of her, of her choices, of who she loves. She would never describe herself as a tomboy per se but there’s something about how it fits, the image it creates that just feels right. Her father has always joked that she’s been a little rough around the edges for Piltovian society, and he always tacks on the joke of encouraging her shooting, her sport, her, as he puts it, less proper interests.
Holding her breath she continues to listen. There’s something in the way the rhythmic melody catches her, she’s entranced.
Cried the first time dad looped a tie around my neck
Part of me I thought had died rose up to the surface
Caitlyn chokes back a sob, shocked at how easily a song has rocked her to her core. She had thought she had to give up a part of her to be accepted in the world she was to succeed in. Her love for Vi was never in question though, but she was expected to act a certain way. Be the lady to Vi’s gentleman.
The words aren’t perfect. They don’t describe the feeling she has completely, but it's the first time she’s heard anything that comes close. Slowly standing from the bed towards the radio, turning it up just a touch. Caitlyn stares at it as though the words coming from it are being directed directly at her.
No matter what side of the bed I wake up on today
I still rise, I'm alive, I am everything
I don't give a fuck what the world thinks they're looking at
I'm a pin-up daddy
Twirling in my heels with my hair slicked back
The chorus nearly makes her knees buckle. She’s been looking for the words that describe the need for balance, to have one and the other together. Not always equal but never one alone. She had never expected to find them in a song so clearly, so eloquently.
It’s the realisation in that moment that it’s not the stuffy, prim and proper nature of the galas that she hates - well not the sole reason that she hates them. She’s always admired Vi’s confidence when she has attended. The way she strides, head held high in a simple black suit that just fits perfectly. A defiance of the rules and the proper way that things must be done. She’d never considered she could do the same on occasion. On the days where a dress doesn’t feel right.
Her thoughts have drifted, the song becoming more of a soundtrack to the realisations she’s making until she latches onto the lyrics once again.
Used to feel like a guest in my own body
'Till I peeled back the wallpaper and I found a silver lining
Something settles in her gut. Something about the song just hits the right nerve. It's a comfortable warm feeling, not the anxious one she has become accustomed to. Almost as if the acceptance and understanding envelops her as Caitlyn feels a weight lift. A weight she had been unaware she’d been carrying around for some time. One that Vi had tried to help her with countless times, but could only ease the load. She feels like herself for the first time in a long time, feels like she’s been reintroduced to who she really is.
As the final lines of the song play out Caitlyn hears the tell-tale sounds of her parents returning from the gala.
I'm your pin-up queen
The final line that sticks in her head. It’s at that moment she makes a decision.
Padding softly down the stairs to her father’s office.
Caitlyn knows his routine on a gala night well. Not quite ready for bed, needing to take the time to enjoy the quiet before giving over to sleep. He’d always joked that really the reason he attended these events was so that he could come home and close himself in his study aways from the world. A time where he could enjoy a glass of whiskey in peace, allowed to savour it, enjoy it even.
Knocking softly on the door she hears her father beckon her inside.
‘Cait? I wasn’t expecting you to still be awake.’ He’s not surprised though, the words are more of a formality at this point. She takes after him too much. They are creatures of the quiet, preferring the night.
‘Dad, can I ask you something?’ Her voice is quiet, barely breaking through the silence of the room.
‘Of course darling, you know you can ask anything.’
Tobias has always been patient with his daughter. Encouraging her to ask questions, help her find solutions, just listen to her as she talks her way through her understanding of herself.
‘Do you…do you think it would be possible for the tailors to make me a suit like Vi’s?’
A smile slowly spreads across Tobias’s face.
‘For the galas. I love the gowns and I love how I feel in them when I want to wear them, but sometimes I just..they don’t feel right.’
Caitlyn’s not looking at her father afraid that he might say something untoward.
‘Well they made a fine piece for Vi, I’m sure they’ll make something that feels like you. They really are the best in the city.’
Caitlyn just chuckles.
‘I just want to be able to have the choice.’
‘Caitlyn you know you can have anything you want if it makes you feel like the best version of you.’
She can feel the tears begin to well in her eyes, the lump in her throat growing at the tenderness in her father’s voice. Afraid her voice will give her away she just nods towards her father, wordlessly turning to return upstairs to her room.
Finally she doesn’t feel like the four year old running down the hallway in shoes too big for her. Now she feels like the shoes fit perfectly. She feels like has finally found herself.