I’m wiping out the cocktail shaker when the door opens, giving way to a short, boyish girl with a look of distress on her face. She walks shakily up to the bar, having to do a small hop to get on one of the tall bar stools that lined that bar.

“Welcome to Pandora’s Box, my name is David, how may I serve you?”

The girl replied with shaky breath, “Get me something like a punch in the gut”

I filled a shot glass with equal parts vodka, orange juice, and prune juice and set it in front of her, “One Piledriver, knocks the breath right out of you or your money back.”

“Funny.” She knocked back the liquor, quickly following it with a coughing fit.

“Not used to the strong stuff are we?”

She took a moment to regain her composure, sitting up and brushing the bangs of her short brown hair out of her face, “I’m just fine, give me another one.”

“If you insist.” I poured her another shot and she picked it up, a bit more reluctant with it this time. She knocked it back after a few seconds of eyeballing it, triggering another fit of coughing.

“Should I get you something weaker or shall I let you continue this act of self-sadism.”

The girl gave me a look that would strike fear into the heart of gods and I suspect could likely kill anything less than one. Despite this though, after a short moment, she replied, “You’re probably right, give me something sweet, preferably fruity.”

“I’ve got just the thing for you.” I pulled out my cocktail shaker and a goblet glass, mixing together the ingredients with ice cubes then straining them into the goblet glass over crushed ice. , “One Pretty Woman for the prettiest girl in the building”

The girl couldn’t help but laugh a little, seeing as she was the only other person in the building. “I can’t deny that unless it turns out that you were very poorly named.”

“I assure you that is not the case.”

“Are you sure? You have the looks to pass.” She wasn’t wrong, David was a very effeminate man, with long brown hair, a round soft face, and small body. He had been mistaken for a girl on multiple occasions by men who had too much to drink, an interesting experience to say the least.

“You’re right about that,” After a short pause, I asked her, “So if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to bring you in here in such a mood.

She let out a sigh and looked down at the ground for a long time, her hands clasped around her glass and her thumb, slowly sliding along its surface, spreading out the condensation that had been forming.

“There is this boy, one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. I met him about four years ago, in high school, and we hit it off pretty quickly. Neither of us really had any friends at the time and we were both pretty nerdy so it made sense for us to become friends, and let me tell you he was really awkward at first, like he struggled to start and hold a conversation and he would say the most random things at times, and he had a habit of repeating what he said two or three times.”

“Sounds like an interesting character.”

“He is, I’ve never met anyone else quite like him. He eventually started to learn the ins and outs of social communication and he became my best friend, and as often happens I soon found myself wanting more than just a friendship with him. We ended up going to the same college, different majors though. We would see each other a lot after classes and it wasn’t long into our first year when he approached me and asked me out. That was about two years ago and we had been dating since.”

“Now let me guess, he dumped you and that’s why you are upset.”

“No, nothing like that. You as we dated we both became more and more reliant on each other, and I started to spend all my time with him, pushing away my other friends. When I finally realized what was happening I tried to spend more time with other friends but he started to become critical of them, and he felt I wasn’t spending enough time with him anymore. That really hurt me, but I put on a happy face and pretend to be fine, doing whatever he wanted. I essentially made a cardboard cutout of myself that he could project a personality on.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds intense. So what happened from there?”

“Well, when I realized fully just what I was doing and how much it was hurting me I stopped it. And now just tonight I ended things with him and I’m cutting him out of my life. I’m never going to see or speak to him again.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

“Maybe but I need to do this, for my own sake. I’d be lying if I said there wasn't part of me that hates this, that is screaming at me to run back and apologize and go back to the way things were but I know can’t. I know what will happen if I do, and I can’t do that to myself. I have to stick this out. I’ll get over it eventually. I’ll move on.”

“I’m sure you will. Just do whatever’s best for you, and always make sure it’s what you want.”

“I will, thanks for letting me talk David, I needed that.” With that, she downed the rest of her drink and set the money to pay off her tab and a little extra for the tip on the counter. She clumsily got out of the stool, nearly tripping over the one next to her. After regaining her balance she walked out of the bar with just a little more confidence but with the weight of her decision on her shoulders. She would never return to Pandora’s Box but her story would never seem to leave.