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I look around for him, but there’s nothing but a sea of people around the pool deck. Giving up, I nod at the green-haired basilisk holding the mic. I’ve met Clio Solandra before. Everyone knows the podcast she co-hosts with Kent Truthpelt—Behind the Ring, it’s called.

Now, I’m pinned in place by her glittering eyes. “So, Aleks,” she begins, her voice smooth and practiced. “Tell us what happened out there. What we saw from you and your human partner, Javier Zamora, was unlike anything in Clash of Creatures history. You broke international protocol by removing your vocal filter mid-performance. You had us all fearing for your life!”

A part of me wants to roll my eyes, but I resist. “Yeah, well, it’s been an eventful few days in my life.”

She laughs. “That’s one way to put it. For those who don’t understand sirens, can you explain the significance of taking off the filter and what it means?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know this until it happened, but when a siren bonds with a mate, our song isn’t deadly anymore. Not to us, and not to others.” I see the excitement in her eyes, but I beat her to it when I add: “My partner, Javier Zamora, is my mate. We have bonded, and were able to do what we did because of our connection.”

“Incredible,” she says, eyes shining. “Your song certainly made an impression on the audience, and the judges. Other than one outlier, you received full marks for your routine.”

Oh, I bet she would love for me to talk about how my mother gave us the lowest possible execution score while the rest of the judges each awarded us perfect scores. Instead, I offer: “I’m just happy I was able to be here competing at the Clash.”

“Everyone is wondering about the story of your bond with your partner. From what I understand, fated mates are unheard of in siren communities. Can you tell us how your bond came about?”

“No. The bond is between Javier and I.”

She looks mildly put out, but quickly pivots. “There was a certain amount of controversy about your return to artistic swimming, Aleks. I understand that after qualifying for the games, you appealed to perform a solo—an appeal which was denied after you arrived in Monstralia. What can you say to those who think you or others like you should not have a place at the games?”

“I didn’t know if I was going to get a chance to come back to competing.” I glance down at the brushed-bronze sitting against my flat chest. “There were people who tried to keep me from artistic swimming. My own kind—sirens—didn’t want me to be here, but why? Because I’m a trans man? It’s hypocritical, when artistic swimming has never been divided by gender, but by the physical designation of having a tail, or not having a tail. My existence is not a threat. Today, the best athletes in the world were awarded for their efforts. A duo of sirens won silver. A mermaid and merman took gold. And, in spite of everything, in spite of having to scramble to change my routine and find a partner days before the competition, I am taking home a bronze medal.”

I see Javier, then, on the other side of the pool, looking unwaveringly confident as he navigates his own interview. Like he can feel me, he glances up. When his eyes meet mine I smile, watching his expression mirror mine.

My chest is full when I turn back to Clio. “None of this would have been possible without Javier. First, as my coach, and then as my partner. He believed in me when no one else did.”

“Well, I want to congratulate you and Javier on your achievement here today. One last question—can you tell us what is next for you?”

It’s a good question. A perfectly reasonable one. It’s also the first time I’ve thought about what comes after this. Every part of my life has been geared toward getting here, to this moment. Now I’m on the other side of it. I’ve medaled again at the Clash of Creatures…so what does come next?

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “Whatever happens, I’m going to keep swimming. Now that I can sing, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop.”

I’ve just broken through the circle of reporters when Cora comes running towards me, leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around me. I stumble, laughing, before finding my balance.

“Oh my god, Aleks, you guys were stunning. Seriously, you should have seen the way everyone freaked out when you took off your vocal filter. And when you sang—ugh, it was beautiful.”

It feels good to hug her back. For all my talk of leaving my family behind, something settles in me when the purple scales on her neck catch against my cheek. Even now, she feels and smells like Yucatec’a. No longer home, but still somewhere important. A place that made me who I am.

“Thank you for everything,” I whisper against her skin. “For swimming with me, for helping us pull this routine off. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

She wriggles free and stands in front of me, looking perfectly like herself in her ripped shorts and crop top. “If you really want to repay me, can you and your mate come watch me in the ensemble performance in two days?”

“We won’t miss it,” I assure her.

The crowd shifts around us, and I catch a glimpse of dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and the smile slips from my face.

I know she is here. She was impossible to miss, sitting up there on the panel above the pool. But now, after it all? Of course it wasn’t enough to award us a laughably low score in comparison to the rest of the judges. Of course she can’t walk away and let me have this moment.

Her eyes lock on me, and I drop my gaze. I hate this, hate how after all of this I still feel so weak and small and young under her judgemental gaze. Cora, glancing over to see what has me going silent, mutters a quiet “Fucking bitch,” I barely hear.

When a wide chest fills my vision, I melt, the tension and fear and please don’t make me see her replaced with a steady stream of I am here, boy, mate, mine. I am here.

A finger tips my chin up, and I meet Javier’s serene, brown gaze. He’s searching me, looking for all the words I don’t know how to say. “Would you like to speak with her?” He asks.

I swallow roughly, and when I reply, my voice is small. “No.”

“Then we will walk away, sireno.” Leaning in, he presses a firm kiss to my lips. “Come on. We have something to celebrate.” He taps the bronze medal resting between his soft pecs and smiles at me like I’m the only man in the world.

“Beach club tonight?” Cora asks, watching us with a fond smile.