Hi!
So since I've decided to keep the chapters pretty short and I already have fourteen chapters down, I've decided to update twice a week. It's gonna be Tuesdays and Fridays, unless something happens that makes me update a day early or late. I'm on vacation now and pretty close to the end of the story, so I should be able to keep this rate up (fingers crossed that I don't have to slow it down).
As usual, thanks for your support. Every single review I get inspires me to keep writing and seriously puts to test my ability to restrain myself from updating earlier. I hope you'll continue to like this story.
day two
Austin stared at his therapist for a while without either of them saying anything. Doctor Hale had longish, dark hair and native american features, almond shaped dark eyes and a dark complexion. He didn't really look like a real life doctor, more like something out of Grey's Anatomy: young, attractive, and smiling a bit too much.
Both Dez and Trish, however, had only spoken good of him, telling Austin how jealous they were, because doctor Hale was the absolute best.
They had first approached him right after morning meditation.
"Who did you get?" had Dez asked eagerly, referring to the schedule Austin had received from one of the nurses at the beginning of the hour.
"What?"
"Which shrink?"
"Oh, um—Hale."
"You got Patrick? You're so lucky, man!"
However now, sitting in awkward silence ten minutes into his first session, Austin didn't really get what was so special about doctor Patrick Hale.
"You're not gonna ask me any questions?" he wondered eventually, his confusion apparent in his tone.
"You look uncomfortable," said doctor Hale, ignoring his question.
"I'm fine," answered Austin, defensively.
"Are you settling in okay?"
"I guess," he shrugged, still a bit weary of the calm tone of his therapist.
"So, why don't you tell me why you're here," suggested doctor Hale.
"Isn't that in my file?" pointed out Austin, his eyes resting on the closed folder resting on the desk.
"I haven't read your file yet," he admitted, "I wanted to meet you in person, first."
Austin studied the man for a while, eyes narrow and eyebrows knit together. He couldn't figure out if he was genuinely interested in him, or if he honestly didn't give a shit.
"Alcohol and drug abuse," he answered mechanically, not even thinking about it.
Doctor Hale nodded. "You seem pretty young," he observed.
"Yeah, so do you."
He smiled. "I'm thirty-four" he told him. "But they do tell me I have the skin of a twenty-five year old," he joked.
Austin didn't even try to hide his skepticism. "Alright," he said, carefully.
"How old are you, Austin?"
"Nineteen."
"So you're not legal, yet."
"You don't need to be if you're a celebrity."
Doctor Hale raised his eyebrows at the bluntness in his expression. He nodded.
"You don't seem very concerned with your condition," he noticed.
"I'm not," agreed Austin. "I'm not an addict. Haven't drunk anything for three days and I'm fine."
"Just because your body isn't showing withdrawal symptoms, it doesn't mean your mind is not wishing for alcohol."
"And what if it is? According to the law in most countries in the world, it's okay for me to drink at my age. I'm not drunk all the time and, contrary to what most people think, I have control over what I do. I'm not a baby," he protested.
Doctor Hale seemed to agree. "No, you're not."
"You wanna know why I'm here? It's because everybody thinks I'm on my way to become some sort of fallen celebrity. That I'm following the Lohan and Bieber path. That's not what's happening, everyone's just overreacting."
"So you don't think you have a problem?"
"No, I'm fine."
Austin sighed and pushed two fingers against his temple. He was so tired of no one believing him, it was driving him insane. He could see it again, in his therapist's eyes: he didn't think he was fine, but Austin felt too tired to try and convince him otherwise. He was already stuck in there, after all, things couldn't get much worse.
He went back to staring at doctor Hale, who was now writing notes on an office pad. He seemed as relaxed as he'd been at the beginning of the section, completely unfazed by Austin's rants. From his seat across from him, he couldn't read anything of what he was scribbling down, but he could tell his handwriting was neat. The image made him think back of the pool girl, Ally, and how concentrated she had been writing in her book the previous night.
"Are you Ally Dawson's therapist?"
The question seemed to trigger doctor Hale's curiosity enough for him to stop what he was doing. "No, doctor Friedman works with Miss Dawson," he answered, slowly. "Why do you ask?"
"I saw you talking to her at dinner, yesterday," said Austin.
Doctor Hale remained quiet for a second, then he put down his pen and adjusted his posture. "I've known her since she was ten. I was a friend of her mother's."
"Is that why you're not her therapist? Because you're a family friend?"
"Yes, but also because doctor Friedman has much better expertise when it comes to Ally's issues."
"Oh," said Austin, nodding slightly.
"Why so interested in Miss Dawson?" asked doctor Hale, his eyebrows tilted upwards.
"I don't know. She seems sad," said Austin simply, looking down.
Doctor Hale sent him an inquisitive look, but didn't add anything else on the matter. They spent another couple of minutes in silence, before going back to talking about Austin's situation.
His phone rang unexpectedly that night after dinner. Dez was still working on his screenplay from his bed and he hardly looked up but, after a glance at the caller ID, Austin decided it would be best to take the call outside. He answered as soon as he got to the hallway.
"Kira, hi," he greeted in a hush tone.
Cellphones were admitted, the only restriction being that they had to be turned off from 10am to 5pm during treatment hours, but he still felt wary of using it so openly.
"You're all over the news," said Kira, quietly as well, though he didn't know why.
"I am?" he asked, not quite sure on how to react.
"It's mostly good things, all about how relieved everyone is that you're finally getting help," she continued. Austin bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore his annoyance. "Daddy's being interviewed by E! Entertainment News right now."
"What does he think about all of this?"
"He said it's gonna be good both for sales and your image. He's still mad, though... he'd freak out if he knew the rumors about us are actually true."
He sighed. Jimmy Starr wouldn't have liked his daughter dating any popstar, and the fact alone that she was rumored to be romantically linked to trouble star Austin Moon angered him so much, that the two of them wouldn't have dreamt of confirming their relationship. Austin would've ended up murdered after not even a day.
"I miss you," he said, hoping to change the subject.
He was now walking down the stairs into the foyer, where a couple of patients where playing cards and Trish was watching TV. He made his way to the first door he saw, hoping to find a more private space.
"I miss you too," sighed Kira. "Why do things have to be so complicated all the time?"
Austin found himself in a long hallway. A little sign indicated to his left to be the massage and acupuncture rooms, while a plaque on the door in front of him read "Music & Art Therapy."
"I know... I wish I could make it better, babe. I really do."
Silence met him from the other end. He waited for a response, but only heard her sigh again.
"What?" he asked.
"It's just—do you really, Austin? It feels to me that you just keep making things even more difficult for me," she complained.
He blinked, stunned. "What the fuck, Kira."
"Come on, Austin! Did you really have to take it this far? I mean, I'm happy you're getting help now, but you could've at least tried not to get to this point."
"You were right there next to me every single fucking time!" he spat back, now not all that worried about people hearing. "Whatever I was doing, you were doing it with me!"
"I never threatened that dancer. And I never punched any paparazzi."
Austin felt the urge to throw his phone against the wall.
"Whatever, Austin. We'll talk about it when you get out," she cut him off, before he could answer.
"Why not now?"
"I have to go, Trent is waiting for me downstairs."
"Trent as in T-Fame? What the fuck are you doing going out with my best friend?"
"Chill out, Austin. He's my ride to Kylie's party. Not that it's any of your business."
"I'm your boyfriend, Kira!" he yelled.
"Then trust me, nothing's gonna happen. I'll call you back tomorrow, okay?" her voice seemed a little more soft now, but he wondered if it was just because she felt guilty.
"Bye," he said dryly, then ended the call and dropped the phone in his pocket, his wrists clenched painfully. Now more than ever, that place seemed like a prison.
He waited until his breaths evened out before turning to go back to his room, when a melody caught his ear. It came from the Music and Art Therapy room, and he didn't even think about pushing the door open and walking in to find out who was playing.
Ally Dawson sat at the grand piano at the end of the room, her book opened on the stand, hands moving fast and surely on the keys. He didn't know what she was playing, but it sounded incredibly beautiful, so much so that soon enough he felt goosebumps on his skin. He stared at her, oblivious of his entrance, focused on what she was playing, a small smile coloring her expression.
He approached slowly, as if he was nearing a rare type of bird, afraid he would scare her away, entranced by her music. She kept not noticing him until the song was done, when she picked up a pencil to note something in her book, caught him standing five feet from her and gasped, pressing a hand against her chest.
"You almost scared me to death," she told him, glaring.
"Sorry," he answered, though he wasn't really. "You play beautifully," he added right after.
She gave him a hesitant look. "Thanks."
"Did you write that?" he asked, pointing at her book.
She snapped it close so fast he almost didn't notice, then she stood up.
"Curfew is in twenty minutes," she said, sharply, then she nudged him aside and walked past him towards the door.
Again, he watched her leave, his lips parted, mouth full of words he hadn't had time to say.
Review if you'd like, I sure would like you to.
xx emoeses
Ps- Happy July 4th to all the Americans!
