The third in a continuing series of Aaron Carter fanfic.

Aaron Carter needed a change.

His heart had broken not ten days before. The intense pain of the immediate post-breakup period was gone, but what had replaced it was not wisdom, was not acceptance, but a dull ache. The things that used to make him happy—acting in the Fantasticks, enjoying postprandial banter with his manservant Giles—still did, but in the space between them, he felt lost, empty. Time to shake things up, make a clean break from the past.

Aaron had never been one for fashion during his boyhood fame. Sure, he had enjoyed following the career of Alexander McQueen and had mourned the fallen British designer as much as anyone, but his appreciation for couture stayed in the abstract. It was all aethetics, the same as a artful photograph or a tapestry. His own clothing was selected mostly by Giles, during his bimonthly trips into midtown Manhattan.

Still, though, the idea of radically changing his appearance has suddenly become very intriguing. He thought back to his recent feminist reading, and to those long nights of the soul accompanied by nothing but a bottle of whisky and his Prince B-sides collection. What would happen, Aaron wondered, were he to take a look that had been incontrovertibly feminized and twist it, somehow, into something new, vulnerable and different. That, certainly, would be enough of a change to set him right on the next stage of his life.