It had been a long and difficult week. A week Taylor would really just prefer to forget. She had never been a big drinker but finding a bar with music loud enough to drown out her thoughts sounded pretty good right about now.

Grabbing a drink and snacking on some peanuts couldn’t hurt either.

When she walked in the place was busy. There were groups of people talking and laughing at the nearby tables and goofing off at the pool tables and dart boards towards the back.

The bar itself was pretty empty. There were a couple of men sitting towards the center, she grabbed a seat at the end closest to entrance.

She scanned the QR code in front of her and took a look at her options for the night.

She’s just picked her poison and is about to flag down the bartender to order when she hears a voice behind her.

“You know normally Toby keeps that seat free for me, the guy must be slacking.” A woman takes the seat to Taylor’s right.

“Didn’t realize the chair had your name on it.” She fires back.

The woman laughs it off. “It doesn’t, not really. Just not used to seeing anyone else at the bar that’s all. Normally only the regulars—so really just me and the boys down there,” she raises a hand and waves to the other two men sitting at the bar, they raise their own glasses towards her—“sit here. Guess I’m just surprised to see a new face.”

“Well if life didn’t have any surprises it would get pretty boring.”

“Well said. What are you having?”

“Uhh, I was thinking just a Long Island Iced Tea.”

The woman shakes her head at that. “Oh no you don’t want that. The old fashioneds here are to die for. You’ve never had one like it. They put brown sugar in it, it’s the best. Toby!” The woman shouts to the bartender, who turns in their direction. “Two Old fashioneds over here.”

Toby nods and gets to making their drinks. The woman turns her attention back to Taylor and they make small talk until their drinks arrive. The bartender sets the drinks down in front of them and Taylor takes a sip of hers. She has to admit it is pretty good.

“So, what’s the the symbol?” The woman at the bar asks, pointing to Taylor’s wrist where the tattoo sits.

Taylor’s confused until she looks to where the woman is pointing. “Oh, it’s not a symbol. They’re initials. It’s J P T,” she says as she traces the tattoo with her finger so the woman can see. “They’re letters, one weaving into the other.”

“Oh, nice! Yours?”

Taylor’s confused again.

“Your initials.” The woman clarifies.

“Oh, no.” Taylor says and she shakes her head. She feels slowed than usual tonight. She supposes that’s the alcohol’s fault. “Someone that I used to know. Someone I was close with.”

“But you’re not anymore. I’m guessing, judging by the look on your face.”

“No not anymore. But it’s okay, or at least it will be okay. I’ll be okay.” Taylor gives the woman a small, sad, smile.

She returns it. “Is that why you’re drinking?”

“No.” Taylor laughs at that. “I’m drinking because I had a shit week.” She takes a drink from her glass.”

“I hear that.” The woman laughs and raises her own glass. “To shit weeks.”

Taylor clinks her glass against the woman’s and they order another round.