Those three months were a blur. I was running on pure adrenaline, hopping from one interview to the next, and panic was setting in. Every day brought me closer to the inevitable. 
I consulted with my agent, Rick, who was now back in my life and milking my newfound fame for all it was worth. "You lied? You can't tell me shit like that, man. I'm not a lawyer or a priest. I can't keep that kind of secret."
"What am I supposed to do?" I hissed, pacing back and forth in his office. "I can't just come clean now. It'll ruin everything. I'll be cancelled."
Rick leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Look, D, you've dug yourself into one hell of a hole. But here's the thing - you're a hit. The show's a hit. Maybe... maybe you just need to embrace it."
I stared, dumbfounded. "Embrace it? Are you out of your mind? I'm not actually trans, Rick. I can't just--"
"Can't you?" He cut me off. "You've been playing this role for months now. On and off screen. And, I'm telling you, unless you want to go back to serving tables and living off ramen, you need to keep this going."
I slumped into the chair across from him. "But... fucking hormones, Rick? They want me to actually transition! I can't fake that."
"Listen, D. This is your big break. The kind of opportunity actors dream about. You've got the world eating out of your hand. Can't you feel the energy around this show? Around this character? You're becoming an icon."
I felt sick to my stomach. "An icon built on a lie."
Rick laughed. "Hollywood's full of lies, D. You think anybody in this town is who they say they are? Fuck no. They're fakers, all of 'em. Butyou've got something special. I admit, I didn't see it before when you were trying to be a macho action star. that was never gonna happen. But this? This is your ticket, man. You've got the world believing in you. Don't throw that away."
"But if I wanted to get out of my contract?"
"Yeah, I could do it," Rick sighed. "But it'll cost you. First, you'll have to pay back your retention fee. Then? Well, you're fucked. Backing out of a hit show like this? You'll be blacklisted for at least a couple years. No one will touch you with a ten-foot pole. You'll be lucky to get a gig in community theater after that."
I sat there, feeling the walls closing in. Rick was right, and I hated him for it. I'd backed myself into a corner, and now I was facing a choice that felt impossible.
"Look," Rick's voice softened a bit. "I get it. This isn't what you signed up for. But sometimes, the role chooses you. And right now, this role is choosing you hard. Think about it, okay? Don't make any rash decisions."
"But what happens when the show ends and I'm stick with boobs and everyone thinks I'm really a girl? I mean, what's the endgame here? I can't live as a woman forever just to keep my career afloat."
Rick leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Who says you can't? I know an actor - I won't say his name but you've seen him in plenty of movies - who's Irish-American from Alabama, but because of how he looks he's been playing Italian mobsters for decades. He's never even been to Italy! But he's made a career out of it. Hell, he even opened an Italian restaurant. Point is, sometimes you gotta commit to the role, even off-screen."
"Rick, that's not even in the same fucking ballpark," I said, shaking my head. "This isn't just putting on an accent or learning a few Italian phrases. We're talking about changing my entire body, my identity."
"You're an actor," he said. "Your identity is as fluid as you want it to be. Look, I'm not saying it'll be easy. But it'll be a hell of a lot easier than living in a shitty studio apartment in NoHo if you walk away from this."
"Fuck, man."
As I walked out of Rick's office, I felt like I was in a daze. The California sun hit my face, but I barely felt it. My mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this mess.
I found myself wandering down Sunset Boulevard, past billboards and posters featuring my face - or rather, Lily's face. It was surreal. Here I was, the star of a hit show, and I'd never felt more trapped in my life.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Daisy: "Hey girl! Just got the first script for season 2. OMG, it's intense. Can't wait to start filming with you again! 💕"
I stared at the message, my stomach churning. Daisy had become a real friend over the past few months. The thought of lying to her face every day made me feel even worse.
As I walked down the bustling LA street, I caught my reflection in a store window. My hair had grown out a bit, and I'd gotten used to the subtle makeup I wore even off-set to maintain the illusion. For a split second, I didn't recognize myself. The person staring back at me wasn't Dylan Kirkham, the wannabe action star. It was Lily, the character I'd been living and breathing for months.
"Dylan, what the fuck are you even doing?" I muttered to myself.
I found a bench and sat down, pulling out my phone. My thumb hovered over my mom's contact. She'd been so proud when I landed the role, telling all her friends about her kid's big break. How could I explain this to her?
I put the phone away without calling. What would I even say? 'Hey Mom, remember that role I got? Yeah, turns out I lied to them, and now they want me to take hormones for real.'
The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. I watched as people hurried by, caught up in their own lives, their own dramas. None of them knew the turmoil churning inside me.
As the sky darkened, I realized I had to make a decision. I couldn't keep avoiding this. I had three options: come clean and face the consequences, quit the show and kiss my career goodbye, or... continue the lie and actually start to transition.
I stood up, my legs feeling weak. I started walking, not really sure where I was going. The neon signs of Hollywood blurred around me as I moved, each step feeling heavier than the last.
"Fuck," I whispered to myself. "What am I gonna do?"
"Lily!?" I heard someone call out. I froze, my heart racing.
I turned to see a group of teenage girls approaching, their eyes wide with excitement. One of them, a girl with bright blue hair, was practically bouncing as she came closer.
"Oh my god, it is you!" she squealed. "We're huge fans of the show. Can we get a picture?"
I forced a smile, trying to slip back into character. "Of course," I said, my voice higher than usual. "I'd love to."
As they crowded around me, phones out for selfies, I felt a strange mix of pride and dread. These girls looked up to Lily, saw her as an inspiration. And here I was, an imposter in their midst.
"You're so brave," one of them said as she snapped a photo. "My cousin is trans, and your character has helped her so much."
I swallowed hard. "That's... that's really great to hear," I managed to say.
After a few more pictures and autographs, the girls finally left, giggling and texting furiously on their phones. I watched them go, feeling hollow.
I started walking again, faster this time, as if I could outrun the decision looming over me. But with every step, I knew I was just delaying the inevitable.
The next morning, my phone buzzed again. This time it was a text from the show's creator: "Hey Dylan! Can't wait to see you at the season 2 kick-off meeting tomorrow. We've got some exciting plans to discuss for Lily! Oh! And the studio has set up your first medical consultation for next week. If you have your own endocrinologist, that's cool - but this one is literally the best in town. Let me know if you need anything! 😊" 
I stared at the message, my finger hovering over the reply button. This was it. The moment of truth. Whatever I decided now would set the course for the rest of my life.
Taking a deep breath, I began to type...
I typed, "Thanks for the heads up. I'll be there." Then I deleted it.
I tried again. "Actually, I need to talk to you about something important." Deleted.
My fingers hovered over the keys, trembling slightly. The weight of the decision pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again.
Finally, I wrote, "Looking forward to it. See you tomorrow."
I hit send before I could change my mind, then tossed my phone onto the bed like it was on fire. My stomach churned as I paced my small apartment, running my hands through my hair.
"What the hell am I doing?" I muttered to myself.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was longer now, falling past my ears in soft waves. The subtle makeup I'd gotten used to wearing even off-set softened my features. I barely recognized the person staring back at me.
The reality of what I'd just committed to hit me like a freight train. I was really going to do this. I was going to transition. Not just on screen, but in real life.
I stumbled to the bathroom, gripping the edges of the sink as I leaned over it. My reflection in the mirror looked pale and scared.
I splashed some water on my face, trying to clear my head. As I reached for a towel, my eyes fell on the bottle of testosterone blockers the show's medical consultant had given me "just in case" I wanted to "get a head start."
With shaking hands, I picked up the bottle. The pills rattled inside, a sound that seemed to echo in the small bathroom.
"Fuck it," I muttered.
I twisted off the cap, tipped a pill into my palm, and stared at it. This tiny white pill held the power to change everything. My body, my career, my entire future.
For a moment, I hesitated. Was I really going to do this? But then I thought about the fans, the show, the opportunity I'd been given. I thought about Rick's words, about embracing the role. About becoming an icon.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I popped the pill in my mouth and swallowed it dry. It went down hard, leaving a bitter taste.
"No going back now," I said to my reflection.
I walked back into my bedroom, feeling oddly light-headed. My phone buzzed again. Another text from the show's creator: "Oh, and don't forget - we've got that GLAAD event next week. Wardrobe wants to know if you're comfortable in heels yet or if you prefer flats?"
I stared at the message, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat. Heels. They were asking about heels when I'd just taken my first step towards medically transitioning.
"Flats are fine," I typed back, my fingers moving almost on autopilot.
I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. What the hell had I just done? I'd committed to a lie so big it was going to reshape my entire existence. And for what? Fame? Money? The fear of failure?
But as I lay there, a strange calm began to settle over me.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself, not entirely sure if I believed it. "You're an actor. This is just... a really long-term role."
Maybe this would all end okay. Maybe the show would be a critical darling but the fans would fade away. maybe I’d get hit by a bus.
Of course, since you’re reading this memoir, you know i wasn’t that lucky. But even my worst fears couldn’t have prepared me for what came next.