Venus Van Damme had always been more than Y/N’s older sister. She was her first best friend, her protector, her favorite person, and for much of their childhood, the only person who made home feel like somewhere worth surviving. The two girls had different fathers but shared the same mother—a woman who had never been particularly good at being a mother. Their childhood was messy, unstable, and full of things neither girl should have had to experience. But through all of it, Venus and Y/N had each other. When Venus began transitioning, Y/N was still young and didn’t fully understand why her sister suddenly needed the world to see her differently. What she did understand was that Venus was happier when people called her Venus. That was enough for her. The only thing Y/N couldn’t understand was why Venus got a new name while she was still stuck with the same one. So the sisters made a deal. If Venus was going to have a new name, Y/N wanted one too. They chose Vera. It was never Y/N’s legal name. It wasn’t something she introduced herself as. It became something private between the sisters. Only Venus called her Vera. Years later, that little name still carried their entire childhood inside it. As Venus grew into herself, she became a beautiful, confident woman who refused to shrink herself for anybody. She loved being feminine, loved dressing up, loved her hair, her makeup, and the way she carried herself. There was an unmistakable beauty to Venus—not simply because she was gorgeous, but because she had fought to become comfortable enough in her own skin to let the world see her exactly as she wanted to be seen. Y/N admired her endlessly. Whenever someone insulted Venus because she was transgender, Y/N never saw it as something that made Venus lesser. To Y/N, Venus was simply her sister. And if someone had a problem with that, they had a problem with Y/N too. Venus, meanwhile, had spent years trying to teach Y/N the same lesson she had learned the hard