"Your love is made in China, mass produced, cheap, and of questionable quality!" shouted a male voice from Dr. Lecter's waiting room. "No you go to Hell! No –I'm so done with you just shut up! Why did I even bother trying to talk with you. Look I have to go."

Upon opening the door, Hannibal beheld a slender androgynous figure with long bleached blond hair and mascara eyes irritably shutting off his phone. The patient, a transgendered woman born in a male's body by the name of Adrian, stood in the company of a balding anxious-looking man in his late forties, presumably the father.

"So sorry about that, my stupid ex was just giving me a hard time," Adrian looked over Dr. Lecter and then glanced back at her father as though to hint that he was free to go.

"I'll pick you up at seven," his father replied to the signal, eager to leave his wayward son in the care of the doctor. Ever since the teen had moved out interaction between them was tense and infrequent. Mainly due to his ex-wife's urging, Mr. Randel felt that paying for therapy would be his token of support in the crisis that was overcoming Adrian's gender identity issue. What form the resolution of this dilemma would take did not particularly concern him, as long as his ex-wife was placated.

"Okay dad, see you later," Adrian straightened the glossy pink faux-snakeskin strap of his purse and eyed Dr. Lecter with a hint of suspicion. The impression he received from the doctor's formal clothing and mannerisms was that he was conservative to say the least. Deep down Adrian feared that Hannibal was already in cooperation with his mother to try and suppress his sense of identity. That he would now be forced to endure a very expensive hour of being misunderstood and belittled by a stranger. Already he was on his defenses.

"Please, come in," Dr. Lecter led him inside, gesturing to the armchair for his patient to take a seat.

"So...like...my parents think that I should see a shrink because I've gotten to be such a freak of nature," Adrian spoke his mind with little hesitation, a hint of confrontation in his voice. "Too bad they're out of luck, I can't change you know. Not even if I wanted to. I could pretend sure but I'd rather shoot my brains out. I'm done living for my mother and if this is another gimmick to –"

"I would like to ask you a few general questions about yourself, would that be alright?" Dr. Lecter broke in.

"Um yeah—I guess," said Adrian, curious to see where this would go.

"Would you like to be referred as he, she, or a gender neutral pronoun?" asked Hannibal.

"She," the patient answered at once, pleasantly surprised by the question. It helped considerably to lower his initial animosity around the doctor.

"And do you identify yourself as –"

"A woman," Adrian anticipated the question.

"Do you find the incongruence between your body and perceived gender as a matter of pride, shame, or indifference?"

"Pride in a way, that I don't let it get to me. Once I have the money I'll make sure there is no 'incongruence'."

"Would this involve hormone replacement treatment or surgery?"

"Yes."

"Which of the two?"

"Both."

"When did you first realize that you were in the wrong body?"

"I knew since I was a kid, as long as I can remember."

"Were you ever bullied as a child?"

"Yeah, a lot."

"Would you be able to tell me more about such cases?"

"Recent cases or when I was a kid?"

"Tell me about the most significant incidents throughout your life."

"I guess when I was really little I had a lot of friends, like in kindergarten, no one really cared much about what I wore or how I acted, all the guys and girls would play together. Then in elementary school things got bad, I mostly ate lunch alone, they'd call be 'girlyboy' and thought I'd give them cooties. Then there was a time when my teacher raped me. He had a fetish for little girls with boy parts," Adrian strained not to burst out laughing.

"Is this the truth?" Hannibal hid his irritation behind his calm demeanor, sensing that his patient was not yet willing to open up and perhaps wished to make a ruse of therapy.

Adrian looked at him for a moment and with an exaggerated sigh put down her handbag. "Look, I don't really want to talk about my childhood okay? It doesn't matter – everything was fine then, I mean I wasn't any more messed up than anyone else and their parents. Sure my body's different but there's nothing wrong with me other than that. I don't see why I should be here."

Dr. Lecter decided that he needed to modify his approach.

"Did you ever visit a guidance councillor throughout your time in high school?"

"Um yeah twice."

"Did you find it helpful?"

"I guess a little, it was sorta like venting in a way. She was nice to me."

"Perhaps our session can be used in a similar way, for your needs rather than those of your parents," said Dr. Lecter, imagining her point of view and the reasons behind the retaliation.

"You mean like you'll be my councillor, and this won't all be about me being trans?"

"Yes," Dr. Lecter set down his notebook as a gesture of a transition to a more casual interaction.

"Well...okay maybe...none of the things we talk about will get back to my mother?" she asked Dr. Lecter suspiciously.

"I assure you that just as any medical professional I abide by a doctor-patient confidentiality policy," said Hannibal. "The only exceptions to this clause are instances in which a patient shares thoughts of harming oneself or others. Then their safety takes precedence."

"I see," Adrian crossed his arms and leaned back in her seat, putting her stiletto clad feet on the coffee table. At seeing a certain twitch of Dr. Lecter's lip, she swung her feet back down on the ground.

"Is there anything that has been troubling you recently?" Hannibal encouraged her.

"My ex," she replied curtly.

"What about him in particular?"

"He's a jackass."

"How so?"

"He lies to his friends that we're not dating, that he was just messing with me, like I'm a big joke."

"How did you first find out about this?"

"Through one of my friends who hangs out with his group sometimes."

"And did he confirm this information?"

"Of course not but she doesn't have any reason to lie to me."

"How has this affected you?"

"I feel really pissed off as you can see. I feel like...like he was just using me, like make he's ashamed of me. Well I'm ashamed of him! It doesn't matter though, it's better that he shows his true colours sooner rather than later, at least now I know he's a waste of time and money."

"Tell me more about your relationship with him."

"Um...well we went out for three months, we were both kinda hesitant at first but he was the one that started flirting with me after school. We were both volunteering in the afterschool drama class, that's where we met. Uh...he's got a small cock," Adrian laughed loudly, then felt embarrassed seeing Dr. Lecter's lack of any perceivable reaction.

"I-I guess it hurt being dumped like that," she said at last. "I still miss him you know. I mean it's too soon to get over him, I feel so stupid for calling him today. I must have looked desperate -"

"Were you hoping to salvage the relationship?"

"Yeah, in a way," she replied, shifting in her seat. "I just wanted to know that it wasn't true, that he still cared about me but was simply being an idiot because of what his dumb friends would think, you know?'

"It is common that one's social circle would push their behaviour in a direction different from their own morals and desires," said Dr. Lecter.

"Do you think that deep down he does love me and accept me?" Adrian asked with hope in her eyes. "That he'll change his mind?"

"I cannot say, I have not met him."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, this is your hour to ask and share anything that you deem important," Hannibal replied.

"Okay well this is something that's been bothering me a lot, I guess in terms of the future and about Eric – Eric's my boyfriend –I mean ex," she began. "I mean, I don't hate my body as much as I used to, with clothes and makeup I can sort of change it enough to feel like myself. B-but the problem is that when I meet people I eventually have to tell them...you know, and then it's like I have to tell them that I killed five people or something, like there's a terrible secret I had been hiding from them. Then there's always that feeling that they'll dump me then and there and that our years of friendship don't matter anymore."

"Has this happened to you in the past?" asked Dr. Lecter.

"You mean being ditched?" she looked up. "Yeah, my best friend in second year...before she found out we would talk every day then it's like she didn't even know me."

"That must have been painful."

"No, I don't care anymore really," she insisted, deep down knowing that this was not entirely true. "I just want to be happy and live my life, I can't keep caring about what these stupid people think right?"

"At the same time does being ostracized by society not have an impact on your ability to find happiness? Humans are social creatures after all," Hannibal replied.

"I know, but there isn't much I can do about them."

"Do you feel that your identity takes precedence over the opportunity for acceptance? In other words, does the expression of your perceived gender hold greater value than being welcomed by your peers?"

"I don't want to be liked as a guy, I would feel like I would have to follow all those stupid stereotypes," she brushed her hair from her eyes with her manicured fingers.

"You would not necessarily have to conform to the extreme of traditional gender roles, modern society is more accepting than you may perceive," said Dr. Lecter.

"Not from what I've seen," she retorted.

"Perhaps as you grow older you will find that most adults are more subdued in self-expression than youth are, femininity and masculinity fade into the background."

"You mean everyone becomes like a robot at a stupid desk job where they have to keep their mouth shut and do what they're told."

"Not necessarily, but in some cases yes, certain social norms are established. There can be some comfort in knowing one's predefined role in a collective."

"I don't care about being a sheep."

"What are the societal norms which you deem worthy of rebelling against at the expense of the emotional connection that you give up with others? Let us say you desire a partner who is honorable, kind, affectionate, wealthy, and intelligent. Statistically speaking your chances of finding such a partner would be significantly limited if you add the hindrance that he must also be accepting of you as being transgendered."

"I thought about that, but no. No matter how great he or she is it would still feel wrong if I had to be a guy for them."

"Is it a matter of you 'having to be a guy for them' or that you feel that you ought to be."

"Um...I guess I feel that I have to."

"Do you see the significance? It is not necessary to announce your identity just as most males and females feel little need to clarify their gender identity. Nor are certain modes of dress a prerequisite, the body may be viewed simply as a vessel for the mind."

"I sort of get that," she nodded reluctantly. "But still..."

"What I hoped to share with you is that there is no need to overcompensate for the incongruence between your sex and your gender by presenting yourself as being at the extreme of the spectrum of femininity. Very few woman truly define themselves as such."

"Well sometimes it's fun to dress up and wear makeup, I like it, it's not just to overcompensate."

"Are you certain of this?"

"Well...I guess I hadn't really thought about it, it seems kinda sad that I still haven't been true to myself even when I was trying my best to be."

"Perhaps you had been trying too much, you had pushed yourself further than was necessary to become an ideal that was not entirely of your own creation. Where do you think your conception of 'woman' originates?"

"I see what you're getting at, it's sort of like all that stuff on TV and magazines has been getting to me but no one really looks like that. Most women don't look like that. I-I guess I just wanted to be something close to perfect, that's what beauty was. Like I know beauty doesn't have to be like being anorexic but still putting effort into it seemed a part of it. As in taking care of oneself, the makeup, the clothes, things like that. Fashion."

"Beauty can be artless as well."

"But I do see beauty to be like an art," she insisted.

"By artless I mean without significant modification from its natural form."

"You mean without makeup and designer clothes?"

"Yes."

"I guess, but how would that help me? Why does that even matter? Other than the money I'd save," she laughed awkwardly.

Hannibal smiled in reassurance, leaning back in his armchair.

"I hoped to have you consider the possibility that there is the option of not making a poignant declaration of your gender and sexuality but at the same time remaining true to yourself. This would likely provide you with more opportunities for friendship among your peers."

"So not being so 'in your face' feminine so more people would accept me? So I blend in more...and they can sorta see me as a guy or a girl or neither if they want but I would still know that I'm a girl? It's like it's what's on the inside that counts?" she smiled a little, the idea was a bit cheesy to her at first but something about it rung true.

"Yes," said Hannibal.

"Maybe...at least until I can get surgery and blend in better," she considered the idea, it would make her life a lot easier in a way but she still worried that it would leave her unhappy, but for different reasons than before. Deep down she needed the comfort of looking into the mirror and seeing glimpses of what could be, filling in the mistakes with her imagination. Her Adam's apple and hints of stubble should definitely be gone. But it would be nice not having to worry about the looks she got on the bus or on her way to school, she could just feel normal for a change without having to fake a role. She knew she could get people to like her, easily, if only it wasn't for her body. Adrian could imagine a lot of girls going through something similar, feeling that their body was what was stopping them from being popular, well-liked, having lots of friends...but that wasn't really true, just like how people think winning the lottery will make them happy. Things would just go back to the way they used to, she read about that, how a lot of those families that became millionaires ended up where they started. People would get used to anything. It's just about reframing one's perspective, she thought. Adrian was surprised to find how quickly the hour went by.

...

By the end of the appointment Hannibal was left feeling rather drained of empathy, he had always found it more difficult to sympathize with the plights of young people. There was so much of the contrived in their relations, so many unnecessary barriers resulting primarily from fear and insecurity. He could recall fragments of his own youth, Hannibal had found himself a form of escapism at an early age. When he was young it took the form of stories and imagination, as he grew older it was with the philosophers and scholars of old. They existed in the welcoming sphere of the mind, they spoke eagerly to him in poetry and prose. He would flit from one intellectual to another, trying to find some form of enlightenment. Hannibal toyed with religion and several interpretations of morality yet it never escaped him how impossible it truly was to abide by any fixed belief system. They seemed to be made for an abstract being, these men of greatness hoped to piece a creature together out of parts they salvaged from humanity, yet still the being that would appear before them would never be quite human. It was the idea of a human remote from the thing itself. It was much like having to pay attention to a melody of music throughout one's life, either it would get set aside while more pressing matters were analyzed or it would have a constant presence in the background that would in time grow mute and meaningless in its eternal repetition. The pursuit of virtue could only excite him through novelty, thus leading him to embark on a multitude of spiritual quests that would each meet its abrupt end. The most common barrier for Hannibal was that the world in which he had been cast in was too banal to provide opportunities for greatness, there were few grave matters of good and evil or right and wrong, the day to day was filled by triviality in the pursuit of sustaining one's life of general mediocrity. The mediocre would at times gawk at each other and that was their key driver, though it had several forms of distorted greed. Any deed would be made a mockery of by the gawking of the masses, or worse yet would be ineffectual and unnoticed. In the absence of an objective meaning, the assurance of a transcendental ultimate, the only solace to be found was in things of beauty. The arts, the sciences, and the plight of humanity. His position as a psychiatrist allowed him to follow their struggles with a semblance of compassion, constantly feeding his curiosity and teaching him more of their nature.

Like the Greek myth of Sisyphus, Hannibal believed each man to be trapped in his own struggles which are the be all and end all, if one does not assign himself a higher purpose. A subjective justification for his own existence. Sisyphus, king of Ephyra, was punished by Zeus for chronic deceitfulness, henceforth his life consisted of rolling an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, repeating this action for all eternity. Much in the same way the human race pushes its boulder for eternity, passing on the burden from generation to generation. And so the life of endless toil continues, which would be a deplorable thing if one has not learned to enjoy it. In such a way Zeus blessed Sisyphus, by compelling and giving the man an inclination for his task, needing no justification or encouragement.