We're Here, We're Here

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Jeff opens the app on his phone while we warm up. While we run through scales and diction exercises and harmonies. While we breathe in—two, three—out—two, three. While four voices unite to become one, each a band in a rainbow of sound. While Jeff adjusts the timbre of my voice.

It didn’t always sound like this. That’s part of why I auditioned for Back 2 Back—for the vocal implant. A chance to sing like I used to before my vocal chords thickened. I wanted my range back, wanted the soaring feeling of a note held against the swell of harmony.

I clear my throat.

“Sounds good, boys.” Jeff pockets his phone. “Have a great show.” He waves over his shoulder and heads up to the sound booth.

As much as I love being in a band, I love being in a boyband even more. You’re not supposed to. Boyband members are male, but no one considers them masculine—not when their audience is comprised of teenage girls. Heaven forbid girls’ tastes be given any weight. When I was one, my favorite band was a group of baby-faced cis boys whom my classmates misgendered just so they could call me a lesbian for liking them. Figures, they were my trans masculinity goals and now here I am:

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