Uneventful Millie only chapter, but this keeps my mind active during the hiatus. Can't believe the show is back in March. The wait is too long.
I loved winter because longer night meant more outdoor time for me. It was my first night back at work. I guessed it gave me the distraction I needed to keep my mind off bad memories.
I unwrapped the dried bloody bandage off my forearm. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to feel alive. I tried to remove my tattoo by cutting my skin several times this week, but it didn't work. It healed perfectly fine, not even a scar.
"Millie, where have you been? I missed you," Keith used his fingers to draw lines on my tattoo, "You free later tonight?"
Rage suddenly overtook me, "DON'T TOUCH ME." I slapped his fingers and his whole arm hit the bar. I might have broke every bone of his hand and dented the bar table. I lost control of my strength and Keith lost his ability to talk.
"I am sorry," Not sorry. He deserved it, after constantly sexually harassed me for the last few years, even after I had said no many times. "Let me fix it," I certainly did not want any trouble with any of the town's people. Once again, I filled a shot glass with a few drops of my blood and vodka and gave it to Keith. He drank it and his hand was fixed.
"You know magic, don't you?" He looked at his hands and tried to bend his fingers.
"I didn't hang out with Maleficent and learn nothing," I half-lied, "Now, leave me alone. I am not in good mood." I was too sober. I wished I had some sleeping potion to numb all my feelings.
"Noted," He got his usual drink and started picking up other ladies in the bar.
An unfamiliar face walked into the bar. Tall man with red hair, wearing suit, carrying an umbrella, he looked uneasy in this place. He walked up to the bar and said to me, "Can I get a coffee?"
I narrowed my eyes, "Coffee in a bar?" I knew it was on the menu, but seriously? "No, you are not getting coffee."
"Ummm, something sweet?" He said in a hesitant tone. I made him a grasshopper. "Oh, yum. What is this called?"
"Grasshopper," just like a cricket. Yes I knew who he was.
"My name is Archie," He introduced himself, "What's your name?"
"Millie," I had manners.
"So, Millie, how was your day?" He tried to make small talk.
I shrugged, "Nothing has happened to me today." I worked up an hour and half ago. My achievement was zero, if not negative. "Every day is routine and everyone is one day closer to death. Everyone dies someday." Except me.
"That is really deep, Millie," He still looked like an outcast in this bar, "So you said, everyone dies someday. How did that make you feel?"
"I know you are the town's psychiatrist. Stop analyzing me," I rolled my eyes.
"I am not trying to analyze you," He adjusted his necktie, looking uneasy.
"Did Lily or Tinkerbell ask you to come give me this awkward therapy session?" I looked at his eyes.
He made eye contact with Lily and looked back at me, "No."
"Wow, you are really terrible at lying," I laughed.
"Look, they only asked me to come because they care about you," He tried to convince me that I still had people who loved me, "They said you have been in a very dark place lately and they want you to open up to me."
"I am the bartender here. I am here to listen, not talk," I didn't need someone to analyze me. I was the therapist who would fulfill your alcoholic needs.
"They asked me to come here because they knew you would never come to a therapy session with me. Please talk to me," He must have so much free time.
"What's with today's society obsessiveness towards happiness? It's okay to be mildly sad all the time," I was so tired of trying to look happy.
"Talk to me, please?" He asked.
"You want me to talk? Let's play a game," I lined up five shots glass on bar and pour out vodka, tequila, rum, gin and triple sec, and I also filled a tall glass with cola. I just made him a deconstructed long island ice tea. "Every shot you take, I will answer one question from you."
"I am game," He took his first shot - vodka. He coughed because of the burning sensation, "Did you know you have friends who love you and they are worried that you are so angry and depressed?"
"Of course I know, but I can't keep calm now. I have all this rage and sadness that I need to get out of my system. If I don't express my negativity now, it will build up in me and eventually blow up one day," I wouldn't mind breaking someone's hand again tonight, "Serenity now, insanity later. It's better to let me blow up now."
"Have you considered a healthy way to express your feeling?" He tried to ask a follow up question, but I pointed at the second glass. He took the tequila. He coughed again after the shot.
"Yes, I broke Keith's hand today," I knew it hurt Keith, but I would say that was a healthy way for me to express feeling, "And I wouldn't mind setting things on fire."
He took the third shot - rum, "What made you angry?"
"My life," Two words.
He looked a bit confused. I might as well give this one out for free.
"I've recently recovered old memory of my life. Many years ago, I was sold to a rich man. He forced me to have his child. Later I was kidnapped, raped and killed by the monster who fathered my second child," I said it as if it was not my story. I was detached to my feeling.
"Killed? You dead? You look very alive to me," He giggled. "Nice tattoo, why did you get it?" Fourth shot - gin. His question was no longer therapy relevant.
He pointed at the "Sheridan Le Fanu" tattoo on my forearm, "Yes, the calligraphy is beautiful, but I honestly don't know where this came from. In my curse memory, during art school years, I was a fan of the Carmilla book and I got a tattoo of the book author's name. However, in real life, I never got a tattoo. I didn't even have a tattoo when I was in the Land Without Colour. It just magically appeared after the dark curse. Now it is just a constant reminder of my life's story. I want this gone."
He picked up the fifth shot, but he collapsed onto the table before having a chance to drink it or ask me a fifth question. Triple-sec shot would have tasted terrible anyway, too sweet. "Next time, maybe don't waste your money to hire a light-weight therapist," I smiled at Lily.
"I don't think we are paying him. We met him at Granny's for a few times. He, kind of, volunteers to give everyone therapy in Storybrooke, pro bono. In fact, I think he owes us money for drink," She put her hand in his chest pocket to take out his wallet. She passed me twenty bucks, "And a very good tip." She took out another twenty bucks and put it in her pocket.
That's the Lily I loved.
It was always nice to be with Lily, "You don't need to hire a shrink. Maybe next time you can get me high on sleeping potion, then maybe I will tell you my story."
Lily apologized, "I am sorry to put you up to this. We didn't really talk after the whole cannery incident and you have been hiding. Now I know why you are avoiding us."
"Thank you for making the cricket meets me. It's like ripping a bandage, I guess it's better to do it at once," My past was slowly tearing me apart. "You know what I should do? I should get this weird tattoo covered up!" I had the best idea. What's more drastic than to get a full tattoo sleeve on my left arm? It would be like female celebrities getting a pixie cut after a bad breakup.
"Sure, what do you want to get?" Lily asked.
"A black panther, a cobra, a fairy and two dragons," I had the craziest idea.
"You, the Queen, Tinkerbell, my mom, me?" Lily asked.
I nodded, "A reminder that there are people who love me." Lily hugged me.
= End of Chapter 12 =
I have decided to start a ship for Mulan and Lily - Star Warriors. It lives in the same setting (different universe) of this story - I got The Rabbit Hole, Millie, Lily, Tinkerbell, Mulan, definitely bad luck Keith, maybe some Aurora. I am still on chapter 2, so if you are curious, check it out. No pressure.
This story will resume when the show comes back and the Queen turns back to human or merge back to Regina. If the writers don't work on those two plot lines, then I might not know what to write about. On the other hand, low number of follows and reviews are not very motivating for me to continue anyway. We will see what happens.