Paul was a computing prodigy with an exceptional intellect. Born with a talent for numbers and logic, he found solace in the world of programming and data analysis. His skills did not go unnoticed, and after graduating top of his class, he was immediately recruited to work for Second Dawn, a supposedly cutting-edge tech company with a mysterious project at hand. 
The project was an innovative algorithm that could analyze social media data to determine which young men would be the optimal candidates for feminization. Neither Paul nor anyone in his team were given much detail about the endgame of this project. Their task was primarily to concentrate on the technical aspects and ensure the algorithm worked flawlessly. It was a challenge that Paul accepted without hesitation, diving headfirst into the intricate coding and complex calculations.
But after weeks of intensive work, Paul couldn’t shake a sense of unease. One evening, he approached his teammate, another talented coder named Beth.
“Beth, have you ever stopped to question the purpose of this project?” he asked, leaning against her desk.
“Can’t say I haven’t,” she admitted, pausing her typing. “It’s peculiar, isn’t it?”
Paul was thrust into a cold, sterile room in the basement, a far cry from the bright, computer-filled spaces he was used to working in. Instead, he was surrounded by cruel-looking instruments and medical equipment. “You need to understand, Paul,” said one of his handlers, a hard-faced woman with a clinical smile. “This isn’t personal. You’re just the perfect candidate.”
She patted his shoulder, but the gesture carried no warmth. Within minutes, Paul felt the pinch of a needle in his arm - the first dose of estrogen and anti-androgen. He was never a fan of needles, but the more he screamed in protest and squirmed, the more they held him down. 
“Stop movin’, Paul. It’s for your own good!” one of them said. He shrieked as the hormones coursed through his veins.
The weeks that followed were both surreal and horrifying. He was kept in a locked room, while his handler supplied him with regular injections. Second Dawn watched him closely, monitoring his reaction to the hormones. At first, the changes in his body were subtle, but as weeks turned into months, Paul’s body continued to change. From the start, Paul had never been the stereotypically manly man. He’d always been small and slight, with smooth skin and minimal muscle mass. His features were already somewhat androgynous, much to the amusement of his fellow coders. They’d jokingly called him “Pretty Paulie” behind his back – a nickname he’d hated, but which was  now becoming unbearably accurate.
One day, without warning, Mr. Davis took him into a cold room with a surgical table. The “procedure” he explained dispassionately, was to ensure a more complete transformation. “You’re losing your balls, Paul. Don’t worry, they’re dead anyway.”
It was the castration that almost broke him. My life as a man is over, he realized. But as he was recovering from the surgery, a new face appeared in his room.
She had a kind smile and bright eyes. She introduced herself as Holly and told him she was a handler, specially assigned to him. Holly was different from the others. She seemed to genuinely care about his well-being. 
“I know you’re scared, Paul,” she said one day as she helped him sit up in bed. “I’ve been where you are, believe it or not.”
Paul looked at her, surprised. “You were...You went through this too?”
“Yeah,” Holly nodded, holding his hand. “I was the first, actually.”
“And... And you were okay with it?”
Holly sighed, her gaze distant. “It was scary. But sometimes, change can lead to something better. I became someone I never knew I could be.”
A year and a half after Paul had been ‘procured’ by his former employer, Holly became a beacon of hope. They spent hours together, with Holly tutoring him on makeup, clothes, how to speak, how to move – everything Paul would need to live a new life as a girl. She was patient and encouraging, even when he messed up his eyeliner for the tenth time, or when his voice cracked trying to reach a higher pitch. 
With Holly cheering him on, a spark of acceptance began to flicker to life inside him. He was seeing glimpses of his future self, and it wasn’t as terrifying as he’d feared.
“Paul, it might help if you pick a girl’s name.” Holly suggested during one of their daily sessions. They were sitting on the plush bed in Paul’s room, surrounded by make-up and fashion magazines.
Paul sighed, running his fingers through his now long hair. “I don’t know. I’ve always been Paul… it’s hard to think of myself as anyone else.”
“I understand,” Holly nodded, “I used to be Holden. But it’s not about replacing who you are. It’s about embracing who you’ve become”
“I have been thinking about it, actually.” Paul confessed. “What about... Brooke?”
Holly smiled. “That’s a beautiful name. Any reason why you chose it?”
Holly watched as Paul – no, Brooke – fiddled with the hem of her sundress
“My mom once told me...” Brooke played with her long, dark hair. “...that would’ve been my name, if I’d been a girl. She…she always wanted a daughter.”
Holly gently took her hand. “Well, it looks like she has her daughter now.”
Brooke’s eyes welled up. “But will I ever be able to see her again?”
Holly let out a long, slow sigh. “I won’t lie, it’s not a guarantee. But, yes, there’s a path for you to be reintegrated into the world as Brooke. Once you’ve settled into this new life, found a companion, we can see about contacting your mother. We’ll have to prepare her, of course, but... I think she’d love to meet her daughter.”
The idea felt impossible, yet the glimmer in Holly’s eyes let her dare to hope.
Brooke squeezed Holly’s hand. “I… I can do this. I think I can really do this.”
Holly’s smile was warm. “I know you can. I believe in you.” 
And for the first time in years, Brooke realized, she’d started to believe too.