One hundred and four.

That's how many times I've read this magazine, one hundred and four. Cover to cover. Every single day. I can't read anything else. It's not that I don't want to and it's not really that I don't have anything else to read, it's just that I physically cannot get myself to read anything else. Do you know how frustrating that is? But I suppose it's not really my fault, comes with the package deal of being mentally unstable.

I sighed as I slowly closed the magazine and glanced up at the rest of the room, for the middle of the day there weren't that many people here, there was Scott and Isaac and Matt and myself. Normally Boyd's here at least, or Cora, or Danny, you know the half normal ones. But no. No this morning I'm stuck with the real crazies – Matt who has apparently, and I quote 'the worst case of schizophrenia in the whole of southern California', but he's my favourite here, he comes off with the most interesting things. Then there's Isaac with your usual 'I hate myself boohoo I'm gonna cut up every inch of my body with a razor because my life is so terrible', no I suppose I kind of understand it I mean I'm not trying to be offensive but the guy flaunts it around everywhere and it comes across as a little bit attention seeking. But anyway, he's crazy too, that and he faints a lot which used to freak me out but by now I'm used to it.

And then there's Scott. It's his second day here and he's already extremely close to Isaac, which is understandable seeing as they're roommates and all, but he doesn't pay anyone else attention apart from Stiles. Who he sort of has to. But Isaac's completely infatuated with him already, he's actually smiling around him! Isaac doesn't smile. Isaac doesn't leave his room. I think it's some sort of Christmas miracle.

Anyway, as I was saying, it's Scott's second day here and I'm already extremely infuriated because I can't piece together why he's here. He seems normal, he's not covered in scars, he doesn't faint or take fits, he hasn't punched or broken anything, he hasn't cried. I plan on interrogating Stiles later on about it which shouldn't be too hard because damn I have that boy wrapped around my little finger. Notice how I say boy and not man. He's not a man. He's a boy. He's like two years older than me and looks four years younger. I guess that makes Derek a bit of a paedophile then, god knows what age Derek is but he clearly wants in Stiles' pants.

There are a lot of gays here at Beacon Hills' Psychiatric, sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who isn't a flaming homosexual. But then I remember Boyd. Boyd likes this girl Erica who he met at normal hospital, Cora likes Boyd, Erica doesn't like Cora, it's all very gory if you ask me.

"Lydia?" I heard the weak voice of Matt reach my ears, snapping me from my thoughts. I drew my eyes away from where I'd been staring at Isaac and Scott to look at him, his blue eyes dull and empty as they normally were looked at a spot past me. I raised my eyebrow in response. "Aren't you…supposed to um…to be at therapy?" he mumbled, delivering his words at a snail's pace with a tone flat, devoid of any emotion. I feel sorry for the guy a lot of the time, this was probably the most normal he could be.

"Probably," I shrugged and lifted my hand up to my mouth to stifle an oncoming yawn, "but I think I'll stay here, I'm not in the mood for 'talking about my feelings'. Plus do you really want me to leave you here with that." I pointed towards the opposite sofa where Isaac and Scott sat so close they were practically on top of each other. The corner of Matt's lip pulled up ever so slightly as he shook his head, but the rest of his face remained expressionless. "I thought not," I chuckled, glancing down at my magazine again.

"They're gonna put you in group," Isaac pointed out, his attention completely off his new boy toy now.

I shrugged again, "they tried that once before and it didn't work. There aren't enough patients for group to work. I mean how many of us are there? Like seven? Us four, Danny, Boyd and Cora."

"Eight," Matt whispered as he began wringing his fingers together, it could've been a trick of the light but I could've sworn he actually flinched at his own words, "you forgot about Allison."

Confusion swept across Scott's face, but before he could open his mouth to question who Allison was Isaac dug his thumb into his side, drawing out a sharp 'OW' rather than what he was originally going to say. We don't ask Matt about Allison. He either starts to cry or goes into one of his fits where he just doesn't register anyone and just sits and stares into space, I don't know it's kind of weird and it scares me a little because he could be in that state for hours on end and no one can coax him out of it.

Long story short, no one mention's Allison.

"Lydia Martin! What are you still doing here?!" The shrill shriek of everyone's favourite orderly pierced through the room. She was a stout woman, a good foot smaller than me and I'm not the tallest of people, with wiry grey hair and hateful grey eyes above a hooked nose to match. She stood with a hand on her hip and the other looking down at her clichéd pocket watch in utter frustration. I couldn't help myself from rolling my eyes which was sure to get me another week in this godforsaken place, but what does it matter anyway I'm here for life most likely. I'm too stubborn to not be.

"Looking after my dear friend Matt here before he takes another fit," I said, tone as innocent as innocent could be, "whatever Mrs P, I'm going now anyway."

I pushed myself up from my spot on the sofa and strolled out of the room, past the orderly and began my (extremely) paced adventure to the shrink's office. I hoped I had Stiles today, Stiles was never ever my psych but apparently he'd had a session with Isaac and Cora yesterday which isn't very usual so you never know.

It wasn't long before I could no longer hear the noises of the TV in the entertainment room or the nagging that Isaac was getting from Nanny McPhee, just my soft breathing and light footsteps. It wasn't a large building but it was much larger than it needed to be due to the fact there was only seven patients, so it did take me a while to even get to the section of the building where I was supposed to be.

Eventually I did manage to get there, just half an hour after I was supposed to be there but only five or so minutes after I left the entertainment room so I suppose it's not too bad. I walked up to the door at the same slow speed I'd been walking at before and pushed down on the handle, only to find, much to my dismay that it didn't budge. It was locked! Hallelujah it was locked.

"She's not there," a deep voice, Derek's, announced from the other side of the corridor. I turned around to look at him, almost not recognising him due to the toothy grin and the spring in his step as he walked towards me.

"I could've guessed," I replied, voice dripping in sarcasm. "What's wrong with you?" I swiftly changed the subject as he neared me.

"What? Nothing's wrong," Derek's smile seemed to grow, accompanied with a dark red tinge to his cheeks. "I swear it."

"I've been here for almost two years now and I've only ever seen you smile like that once before," I pointed out and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Really?" he cocked his head.

"Yeah, when Stiles first joined the staff," a smirk found its way to my features.

"Really? I don't understand why that would be but-"

"Have you finally got in his pants?" I exclaimed suddenly, cutting him off. How cute would that be? Stiles being all awkward and fearful as he normally is and Derek being all 'big scary security man' and protecting him. I love it.

Derek's blush deepened and he took a few moments to reply, "not… exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"Well…we went out last night I guess and we ended up making out a lot, I guess." He beamed, "oh and we went back to my place after. Didn't have sex though, honest."

"Unfortunately," another voice chimed in. I turned around to look back in the direction I'd come from only to see none other than Mr Stilinski skipping up towards us; he had the same grin on his face that Derek did. God damn. "Sorry I'm late, Lydia," he apologised upon reaching us, "Dr Morrell had a meeting so I'll be taking your session today." He pulled a keychain from his pocket and moved to unlock the door, but not before turning to Derek and mumbling a small, "I'll talk to you later, I promise."

These fucking two, I swear to god.

I liked this chapter at the start but it was rly rushed at the end so sorry :c The sentences are really short and choppy and stuff but that was more due to the fact that's how I imagine Lydia would talk and think in this setting so I apologise if it's a little annoying.

ALSO dear the person who commented on this saying "haha i read this story on wattpad about 3 months ago right you own ''proper'' story" if you actually bothered to check the author of the story on wattpad you would see that it is me. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I uploaded this to multiple sites rather than one? Some people I stg.