Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the O.C. sadly.
Note: This story follows the show's storyline of Oliver and adds more to his character. It also goes more into his thoughts about Marissa and the whole situation. I hope that after this is done I will right a sequel starting from the season finale. Please read and review. But no flames please. This chapter takes place during their first meeting in the therapist office.
Oliver heard the door open but didn't give it much thought until he saw her. It was her. He knew her from somewhere, but he didn't place it right away. Oh yes, that's right. She's goes to Harbor and is the one who organizes a lot of the school's activities. He remembered seeing her, but had never noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun that exposed her pretty face. She sat on down on the couch across from where he was sitting. What in the world is she doing here? Oliver thought to himself. What did she need therapy for? What could be wrong in her perfect little rich life?
Oliver instantly hated himself for his thoughts. He shouldn't judge her like that. He knew that being rich didn't make a person any happier; he could say this from personal experience. He grew up in being the little rich boy whose parents owned hotels all over the country. But to him this only meant that he never got to see his parents who could be in China right now for all he knew, and he spent his whole life living in those hotels.
He always was labeled an outcast and was never able to make friends wherever he lived. This caused him at an early age to turn to drugs to replace the emptiness he felt by the lack of people in his life. And given that he had all the money he needed drugs were not a hard thing for him to come by.
Eventually though, he was caught. And his parents did the only thing they could think of, put him into therapy. Of course, Oliver knew that it didn't matter how long he went, it would never fix what was wrong with him. Therapy could never stop the loneliness he felt, or could make him better. He knew that only a person could. Someday he knew he was destined to meet someone who would change his whole life around and make him well again. It was someone who could understand him and relate, and truly cared for him.
Oliver looked across the room at the brown hair beautiful girl. He wondered if she could be the person to save him? It took him only a moment to realize that he didn't have a chance with her. She hadn't even given him a second look since she had entered the room. He watched as she flipped through a magazine and then anxiously checked her watch. She looked over at the therapist's office door and then rubbed her legs nervously as picked up her jacket and headed back towards the door she had just entered from.
"I came here three times before I actually walked through that door," Oliver said looking up from the book he had been pretending to read since she had walked in the room.
She looked at him surprised as if for the first time noticing his presence. She didn't say anything, so Oliver just closed his book.
"I know you," he said looking directly into her eyes. "You go to Harbor right?"
"Marissa Cooper," she replied in an uncertain voice. "Hi."
"Yeah, you're the girl at school you organizes things. Parties and stuff, right?" Oliver commented with a small smile.
"Social chair is what that's called," Marissa stated sitting back down on the couch.
A few silent moments passed by, Marissa looked up at Oliver who just gave her a small smile making her realize that it was her turn to make conversation.
"You go to Harbor?" she asked.
"No, I go to Pacific," he replied and then touching himself lightly on his chest introduced himself, "Oliver Trask."
Another few awkward moments of silence ticked by before Oliver finally talked.
"For a social chair, I don't find you to be very social at all," he said with a short chuckle. "You'd have to talk to somebody about a recall."
"This is a psychiatrist office. It's kind of embarrassing." She said looking down at the ground.
"Yeah, you're right. This is totally embarrassing," Oliver said not seeming to convincing. "So let's suggest the obvious and move on. What's wrong with you?"
Taken back by his directness Marissa wasn't able to reply. So Oliver moved in closer and repeated slowly. "What is wrong with you?"
"Well, if I knew I wouldn't be here," Marissa snapped.
Oliver stared at her for a moment before replying. "You're not an alcoholic, yet. You've OD'd at least once, pills I'd say, muscle relaxants, definitely."
Marissa just sat is shock. She couldn't understand how this dark haired could read her so well, as if she was a book or something.
"Painkillers," Marissa added.
"Well, you didn't really want to hurt yourself," Oliver commented. "Kurt Cobain, yeah he wanted to hurt himself."
Marissa looked away. "You know, coming here wasn't my idea."
"Maybe not," Oliver agreed. "But you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You want to know why you are the way you are. "
Marissa started to say something but was interrupted by a patients coming out one of the doors.
"That's you," Oliver said leaning back into his chair and flipping his book back open. "I'm waiting on the next door."
Marissa slowly got up from her seat and started towards the office door.
"See you next week," Oliver said.
She just gave a small smile and walked past and into the next room.
Oliver sat in his chair for a while, trying to concentrate on reading his book. But his thoughts were only with Marissa. He couldn't help it; she was just so beautiful and troubled at the same time. Could she be the one to help him? Or better yet, could he be the one to help her? He let out a long sigh. He guessed he would have to wait until next week.
Note: This story follows the show's storyline of Oliver and adds more to his character. It also goes more into his thoughts about Marissa and the whole situation. I hope that after this is done I will right a sequel starting from the season finale. Please read and review. But no flames please. This chapter takes place during their first meeting in the therapist office.
Oliver heard the door open but didn't give it much thought until he saw her. It was her. He knew her from somewhere, but he didn't place it right away. Oh yes, that's right. She's goes to Harbor and is the one who organizes a lot of the school's activities. He remembered seeing her, but had never noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun that exposed her pretty face. She sat on down on the couch across from where he was sitting. What in the world is she doing here? Oliver thought to himself. What did she need therapy for? What could be wrong in her perfect little rich life?
Oliver instantly hated himself for his thoughts. He shouldn't judge her like that. He knew that being rich didn't make a person any happier; he could say this from personal experience. He grew up in being the little rich boy whose parents owned hotels all over the country. But to him this only meant that he never got to see his parents who could be in China right now for all he knew, and he spent his whole life living in those hotels.
He always was labeled an outcast and was never able to make friends wherever he lived. This caused him at an early age to turn to drugs to replace the emptiness he felt by the lack of people in his life. And given that he had all the money he needed drugs were not a hard thing for him to come by.
Eventually though, he was caught. And his parents did the only thing they could think of, put him into therapy. Of course, Oliver knew that it didn't matter how long he went, it would never fix what was wrong with him. Therapy could never stop the loneliness he felt, or could make him better. He knew that only a person could. Someday he knew he was destined to meet someone who would change his whole life around and make him well again. It was someone who could understand him and relate, and truly cared for him.
Oliver looked across the room at the brown hair beautiful girl. He wondered if she could be the person to save him? It took him only a moment to realize that he didn't have a chance with her. She hadn't even given him a second look since she had entered the room. He watched as she flipped through a magazine and then anxiously checked her watch. She looked over at the therapist's office door and then rubbed her legs nervously as picked up her jacket and headed back towards the door she had just entered from.
"I came here three times before I actually walked through that door," Oliver said looking up from the book he had been pretending to read since she had walked in the room.
She looked at him surprised as if for the first time noticing his presence. She didn't say anything, so Oliver just closed his book.
"I know you," he said looking directly into her eyes. "You go to Harbor right?"
"Marissa Cooper," she replied in an uncertain voice. "Hi."
"Yeah, you're the girl at school you organizes things. Parties and stuff, right?" Oliver commented with a small smile.
"Social chair is what that's called," Marissa stated sitting back down on the couch.
A few silent moments passed by, Marissa looked up at Oliver who just gave her a small smile making her realize that it was her turn to make conversation.
"You go to Harbor?" she asked.
"No, I go to Pacific," he replied and then touching himself lightly on his chest introduced himself, "Oliver Trask."
Another few awkward moments of silence ticked by before Oliver finally talked.
"For a social chair, I don't find you to be very social at all," he said with a short chuckle. "You'd have to talk to somebody about a recall."
"This is a psychiatrist office. It's kind of embarrassing." She said looking down at the ground.
"Yeah, you're right. This is totally embarrassing," Oliver said not seeming to convincing. "So let's suggest the obvious and move on. What's wrong with you?"
Taken back by his directness Marissa wasn't able to reply. So Oliver moved in closer and repeated slowly. "What is wrong with you?"
"Well, if I knew I wouldn't be here," Marissa snapped.
Oliver stared at her for a moment before replying. "You're not an alcoholic, yet. You've OD'd at least once, pills I'd say, muscle relaxants, definitely."
Marissa just sat is shock. She couldn't understand how this dark haired could read her so well, as if she was a book or something.
"Painkillers," Marissa added.
"Well, you didn't really want to hurt yourself," Oliver commented. "Kurt Cobain, yeah he wanted to hurt himself."
Marissa looked away. "You know, coming here wasn't my idea."
"Maybe not," Oliver agreed. "But you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You want to know why you are the way you are. "
Marissa started to say something but was interrupted by a patients coming out one of the doors.
"That's you," Oliver said leaning back into his chair and flipping his book back open. "I'm waiting on the next door."
Marissa slowly got up from her seat and started towards the office door.
"See you next week," Oliver said.
She just gave a small smile and walked past and into the next room.
Oliver sat in his chair for a while, trying to concentrate on reading his book. But his thoughts were only with Marissa. He couldn't help it; she was just so beautiful and troubled at the same time. Could she be the one to help him? Or better yet, could he be the one to help her? He let out a long sigh. He guessed he would have to wait until next week.