Stars Like Confetti (Playhouse #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Shea

It was so fucking hot, and I was so, incredibly thirsty.

I should have taken the time to get a drink, but I hadn’t wanted to use the bathroom during the long trip.

Not to mention it hadn’t even worked.

The urge didn’t hit me until Sophie practically shoved me out of her car and just as I had the thought to dash into the rest area, the next bus to the camp showed up.

According to the schedule I’d been emailed, they ran every fifteen minutes, but for some reason my feet carried me toward the bus instead of the small center at the beginning of the trailhead.

Now, I sat on a crackling leather bus seat that stuck to my exposed skin, clenching my thighs together with every bump along the gravel road.

Thankfully having a seat to myself, I shielded the hand between my legs by placing my bag in my lap. Other campers chatted around me, but I was too busy trying to keep my pants dry to socialize.

I hadn’t even wanted to come to this camp. It was my Sophie’s idea. Other camps of the sort had been cropping up all over the country, but they were too far away for me to even consider. This one, however? It had been just a five-hour drive away.

We hit a pothole, and my bladder protested. Just five hours… The bastard seemed to be taunting me.

I’d been part of the age play scene for years but after transitioning, I found a level of insecurity that I thought possible.

The caregivers that were interested in boys were…

Well, they were after a penis. The ones that weren’t?

They claimed to see me as “the best of both worlds” but deep down, they wanted a little girl.

Dating as a trans man was tough enough in a small town. Toss in being Little, and it was enough for me to swear it off altogether. I had to admit the thought of the camp excited me, even if my stomach churned with nerves.

The bus bounced slowly down a gravel road and if it hadn’t been taunting my overfull bladder, the sight of it was like something out of Wrong Turn Shea.

Finally, after an agonizing drive, the camp came into view.

Staff filtered in and out of the two-story welcome center, directing rogue Littles and already exhausted caregivers.

I saw the cabins in the distance, and the oversized playground beyond them.

The sunlight glittered off a lake somewhere, but I didn’t even want to think about water right now.

Bracing myself, I tugged my hand free from my thighs and shot to my feet, rushing off the bus before anyone else could instruct me otherwise.

It was nice and cool inside the welcome center, and I paused for a moment to enjoy the air coming from the vent.

As I did, I scanned the space, searching for the restrooms. A small “store” settled in the far back corner, though I knew nothing actually cost money.

Beanbags and coloring books filled the empty space between, along with a video game area for those who didn’t regress as much.

My leg bounced, my body unwilling to go ignored—and partially because I was nervous as all hell.

Beside me, a pink-haired caregiver wrangled a group of people surrounding her.

I didn’t need to know any more to know she was a Mommy—she basically had a flashing neon sign above her head.

“Hi,” came a soft voice from my left.

I nearly jumped out of my skin—and drenched my pants.

I hadn’t noticed the check-in desk a few feet away.

My attention snapped to the voice. I gripped onto the strap of my duffel.

Shit, they were hot. Their pastel tie-dyed T-shirt contrasted beautifully bronzed skin.

Even their shaggy hair seemed kissed by the sun, and the kind of strawberry blond that I imagined smelled like summer.

Kind, brown eyes studied me, eyes that I almost remembered, but couldn’t quite place. “Are you checking in?”

I could only nod. Words. What happened to my words?

Yet again, I could only bob my head.

“Can you come up here? Or do you need me to come to you?”

I need to pee. The words echoed in my head, my stomach cramping insistently. I’d never had any problems expressing my needs before, even in Little space, but something seemed… different now. I was regressing in a way I never had.

So I shook my head, hesitantly closing the distance between us. The person standing there watched me intently, seemingly like they were waiting for something.

Oh… they’d asked me my name.

“Shea,” I whispered. “Shea M-Moreland.”

“It’s nice to meet you Shea,” they responded softly, their voice settling around me like a warm blanket. They flipped through files in a box next to them. “What are your pronouns?”

“H-he/him.”

“I’m Theo. They/them.” They withdrew a packet from the box with my name written on the front in neat handwriting and lifted a canvas tote bag onto the counter.

They opened the envelope and flipped a sheet of paper around to me, but it was like my eyes couldn’t focus because I was just so, so full.

Suddenly, my bladder contracted violently, and dampness burst into my underwear.

“I’m sorry,” I said, interrupting them mid-sentence. I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together tight. “I don’t mean to be rude, but could you show me to the restroom?” In a softer voice, I added, “Please.”

My cheeks were on fire.

Theo’s lip curled into a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Of course. You can leave your bag here if you like.”

I let out a sigh of relief, and dropped my bag where Theo indicated behind the desk. They led me to the back of the building, past the store and down the hidden hallway where they opened the door to a gender-neutral bathroom, complete with a changing table. “Do you need any help?” they asked.

Oh, they were a caregiver, and they’d gone and clocked me for the Little that I was. I didn’t think this could get any more humiliating. I shook my head and did my best not to dart into the empty space and slam the door in Theo’s face. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

They shut the door behind me, and I threw the lock into place. Shaky hands already fumbled the button on my jeans, legs squeezed tight against the pressure it put on my extremely full bladder. I danced in front of the toilet, all but bursting now that it was in sight. Tears sprang to my eyes.

My jeans flew open. It was all I could do to turn around and shove my pants and underwear to the floor…

And I burst. I let out a sigh of relief when I could finally let go. Elbows resting on my thighs, I rested my face in my hands, trying to catch my breath. My bladder emptied with the force of a firehose and if I hadn’t been so relieved, I would have been embarrassed.

But the relief was short-lived. When I peered between my fingers, a dark spot on my gray underwear caught my attention. Panicked, I checked my jeans—same thing.

I hadn’t gotten my pants down as quickly as I thought, and it would be more than obvious. “Oh, shit,” I whispered, those tears returning full force. I couldn’t fight them anymore than I could my own bladder, and they poured hot down my cheeks.

I choked back the sniffles, my bladder aching with emptiness. I didn’t know how I was going to get a change of clothes without being detected, not with Theo hovering outside the door.

And fuck—they were a caregiver. What if they thought I did it on purpose for attention? I was not that kind of Little, nor did I expect them to deal with it themself.

A knock at the door, though soft, startled me. “Shea? Are you okay?”

“M’ fine,” I choked, sounding anything but, and Theo knew it.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“I said, ‘I’m fine!’ Leave me alone!”

Uh-oh. I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. “That’s no way to speak to someone, is it?” If Theo was hurt, it wasn’t evident in their voice.

No. No it wasn’t.

I cleaned myself, though it didn’t do much good because I cringed when I pulled up my soiled pants. Now they were cold and wet.

I squirmed my way across the room, disengaging the lock and cracking the door open. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Thank you.” Theo’s eyes scanned as far as they could see. “Now, do you need some help?”

I nodded, scrubbing my eyes, which were irritated from the tears. Theo put the pieces together without another word, their smooth bourbon eyes flashing with realization. They blinked, softening their tone. “Okay. Lock the door and wait for me.”

Another nod, and I locked the door. Briefly, I eyed the changing table, but I didn’t want to ruin it with my wet clothes.

I immediately scolded myself for the thought. That’s what changing tables are for, dumbass.

In the end, I leaned against the sink. My jeans were undone, and I shivered now knowing how wet they were, but I had even less desire to stand there naked than I did covered in my own piss.

Another gentle knock echoed through the empty room a few minutes later.

I unlocked the door, and Theo entered, taking in the scene.

I scrubbed at my runny nose. Like they were approaching a baby deer, they slowly closed the distance between us and set my bag on the changing table.

“Could you not get your jeans off in time?”

Sniffling, I shook my head. “I did make it,” I defended, voice whinier than I cared to admit. “… mostly.”

“That’s okay.” I hadn’t made a move toward my bag, so Theo unzipped the top and began pulling out clean clothes. “Could you not stop for a potty break on your way here?”

My cheeks heated. How was I supposed to explain the anxiety of using the freaking toilet?

But the question answered itself when they lifted a pair of underwear, and a small box tumbled free.

That look flashed across their eyes again—understanding.

They’d just found my testosterone injection.

I expected questions, to be interrogated about how dangerous it was to hold it for so long or to dehydrate myself in this kind of heat, but they didn’t come.

“I get it,” Theo said instead, finally selecting a clean pair of pants and underwear. When I didn’t speak, they continued. “It’s okay. You’re in good hands. Can I have your safe word please? Or do you need me to use this?”

“This” was a special charm hanging off their lanyard.

It was the size of a large keychain, shaped like a traffic light with the colors illuminated.

I’d never been a nonverbal Little before, but words seemed nearly impossible in that moment.

My finger drifted toward my mouth, and the other hand picked at the side of the charm.

Finally, I landed on the green traffic light.

I wasn’t sure what it was about this person that made me trust them, but I felt like I could truly regress with them, and everything would be okay.

“Thank you.” Theo tugged at the hem of my shirt. “May I? That’s covered in snot.”

I giggled in response and raised my arms. Theo slipped the garment over my head and tossed it to the floor. When they went back to push my jeans off, however, they paused. The color drained from their face, their eyes flared and their jaw hit the floor.

I noticed them staring at my chest, just below my ribcage—and panic sparked in my belly.

It was the scars. It was always the scars.

It was like people didn’t realize the scope of the whole trans thing until they saw the two faint pink scars beneath my nipples.

The cold drew goosebumps over my skin, or maybe that was the startling realization that Theo was about to bolt out of this room and never speak to me again.

I reached for the clean clothes on the changing table. “You don’t have to do this,” I muttered. “I can manage myself.”

“No! I—Shea, it’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

Theo’s eyes darted down again. They swallowed hard, then took a step away from me.

Curling their hand around the hem of their shirt, they raised over their chest…

And my heart exploded.