He

He walked into the bar around ten o'clock that night, wearing jeans, combat boots, and a faded Mighty Mouse T-shirt. The time stamp still burns my memory as it blinked in the corner of the convenience store security footage. Every second, it blinked as I watched him look both ways and jog across the street to his favorite bar.

I hated going there. It was a tiny hipster bar down the street from his apartment, and I only went with him once. The food was too greasy, and I didn't recognize any of the brews, all of them from small-town breweries.

He walked in and sat down at the far end of the bar in a corner. The bartender asked for his ID, and he produced it.

"So do you prefer Kimberly, Kim, Kimber?" the bartender asked.

"Actually, I go by Lee. I'm transgender, and I haven't switched my ID yet."

"No problem, man. What'll ya have?"

After ordering some sort of apple ale with a punny name, he opened his book and began to read. The next two hours passed fairly uneventfully. Occasionally the bartender would check on him.

"You good, Lee?"

He would nod, never even looking up from his book as he devoured chapter after chapter. Around 11:30, a cute Asian man sat down next to him.

"Now there's an idea: libraries with bars in them. That's a way to get kids to read." Lee didn't even comment on how stupid an idea it was, since "kids" are not legally allowed to drink. He smiled at the man who continued, "So... What are you reading?"

"The Seven Worlds."

"Didn't they make a movie for that?"

"I don't know. I saw this at the library, and it looked interesting."

"Yeah... It's about some chick who goes all Robin Hood, right?"

"No, this is about a prince who has to fight his father, the evil king. I really like fantasy type novels."

"Oh," the man pauses and stands up, "you're one of those geeks, aren't you?"

"Yes... Yes, I am."

"I guess I could classify myself as a geek. I watch The Flash on TV." Lee just nodded as the man wandered off to another part of the bar with his drink before returning to his book.

Around midnight, he paid his tab: $14.50 for the one drink. He handed the bartender two crisp ten dollar bills and told him to keep the change. Placing the receipt in the book to hold his place at chapter six, he stood and exited the bar. That was the last anyone saw of him.

The book and receipt were found a block down the road; just two more blocks, and he would have made it to his apartment. I wish I had gone with him that night.

The police investigated his ex and the Asian man at the bar, but both had airtight alibis.

I think about him all the time. What he looks like now, what he would have liked like now. I have no clue if he is still on T. All the missing person posters show him in two pictures: one, he's smiling after his first haircut, and the other, he's still presenting female. That's not him! I remember the man who used to get excited every time his voice would crack, who took a thousand pictures of our legs after his hair started to grow in thicker, who I had to help pull on his binder after a shower. I hate those false pictures of him, and with that as an observers' only guideline, I doubt I'll ever see him again.