Chapter 8 – The Session

Jimmy entrenched himself in the couch, turning it into his fortress, and a battle station if need be. Sitting in the armchair across from him was Maxine Winters, a zebra in a tropical green and black suit and skirt ensemble. For the past forty-five minutes, he waged a war of silence with her, and as far as Jimmy was concerned, he was winning.

Admittedly, Maxine's office was quite cozy. With remarkably comfy furniture, a turquoise area rug reminiscent of the ocean on a bright summer day, scented candles filling the room with the smell of cedar, and sunlight filtering through the curtains ever so softly, it was a disarming zone of tranquility. And that's exactly why Jimmy wasn't letting his guard down.

Maxine lifted her clipboard to jot something down. It wasn't the first time, and Jimmy's curiosity was starting to give way to simmering aggravation. What could she possibly be writing down when he gave her nothing to work with? He leaned forward and stared down the clipboard, willing it to turn just enough for him to see what was on it right before the zebra dropped it in her lap and looked directly at him.

"Jimmy," she said, nearly startling him. "I understand you haven't had much luck with therapy recently."

"These things don't go so well for me. My first therapist ended up referring me to my second after a death in their family—which I'm pretty sure they faked—and the second up and ghosted me after our first session. The third called me a dumpster fire with skinny legs and then extorted me into a nice retirement for himself."

"It was courageous of you to reach out to make this appointment and come here today. That tells me some part of you still believes in this. I'm proud of you. Seeking help even after those setbacks isn't easy."

"You're proud of me? Lady, you don't even know me."

"That'll change soon, hopefully."

Jimmy met her optimism with silence. After another minute of the silent treatment, Maxine changed her approach.

"I heard you're a man that likes to get his money's worth. Whether we talk or not, I still get paid for this session."

Jimmy ran his claws through his mane, letting out a fusion of a growl and a sigh. "Alright! What do you want to talk about?"

"That's up to what you're comfortable discussing."

"I never know where to start with these things! You're the therapist! You figure it out, okay!?"

"Well, why don't we start from the beginning and talk about your childhood?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"How about your daughter? How is your relationship with her?"

"I ain't talking about that either!"

Maxine paused as if bracing herself. "What about your wife? How have you been coping over the years? All of Redshore mourned Mercedes Crystal after she..."

Jimmy's glare burrowed into Maxine like hooks, he knew that much since it silenced her, even if she didn't appear shaken.

"Is there something that you do want to talk about?" she asked, pivoting. "A recent, maybe very public event that happened to you?"

She wasn't as clever as she thought she was, but Jimmy knew there would be no progress if he never gave therapy a real try. He'd have to talk about something.

"You know that thing they said I did on the news? That I got arrested for?"

"That thing?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I need to know that you know what you're talking about. How do you expect to reconcile your actions if you can't own them?" Maxine reached out and gave the wolf's right knee a light touch. "This is a safe space, Jimmy."

Jimmy shook her away. "Don't 'safe space' me!"

"I'm serious. I'm legally and ethically bound to keep our sessions confidential. Anything you tell me remains between us unless it represents a serious, active threat of harm."

A marathon of emotions ran their course through Jimmy, resulting in surprise, revelation, and relief. When Jimmy met the zebra's gaze again, his eyes were dark and somber. "I tried to kill Buster Moon."

"Tell me about why you felt the need to do that."

"Didn't you see the Kilborn interview? I've been over this pretty publicly."

"I did see the interview, but why rely on that when I can get the raw, unfiltered story straight from you? No cameras, no performances, no lawyers gagging you. Don't you want to tell your story? The whole story?"

Jimmy leaned forward and looked at her expectantly. After a few seconds, he slammed the armrest with his fist. "What does a guy have to do to get some snacks around here!?"

"Whoops!" Maxine reached back and grabbed a jar of trail mix from her desk. "I'm sorry. Your assistant did tell me about your needs." She offered the jar and Jimmy snatched it as if he always owned it. He jammed the snacks between his thighs, sending a clear sign to Maxine that she wasn't getting them back.

Jimmy took a minute to prep himself for reliving one of the worst weeks of his life. Then he began to recount to Maxine—with intermittent snacking—the day his life started to unravel. He told her about his desperate search for the next big act in the Crystal Tower Theater, how Buster Moon and his troupe crashed the auditions and sold him a lie about Clay Calloway, how Porsha made a ploy to be in the show when the mommy pig had a breakdown and couldn't do the role. He even told her about the panic attack he had when he discovered Moon's deception. Maxine was informed ahead of time about the panic attacks. He felt no need to keep it a secret from her.

But the tone of the story changed from that point on, no longer an aggrieved rant but now something more deliberate and woven with pain. Jimmy told Maxine about confronting Moon and threatening his life, about how his daughter barged into his office in tears over the mean koala firing her and how his whole theater troupe hated her. Jimmy explained how he'd been so blinded with humiliated fury that he screamed at Porsha and tried to kill Moon, how he was almost willing to let Moon escape so long as the koala faded into obscurity, only for his theater to be usurped by Moon with a small army that included Porsha, a battle that ended with him trying to end the koala's life once more, only to end up ruining his own.

After a short break—and a lot of notes added to Maxine's clipboard—Jimmy picked up where he left off, describing his festering hatred in jail as he watched his reputation burn, his empire crumble, and his arch nemesis succeed off the back of his suffering. How he dwelled endlessly on how just about all the people he ever trusted stabbed him in the back. And how Cleo sauntered back into his life, singing all the sweet things he wanted to hear with a plan for revenge. Jimmy detailed how he and Cleo pushed the dominos that saw Moon's personal and professional life come apart piece by piece, how exposing Moon as a compulsive liar helped him beat the system and take back his life, and how Jerry was hurt in the resulting crossfire. And how it all culminated in the people he thought he could no longer trust coming together for an intervention when he began spiraling again.

Silence blanketed the room. Maxine took more notes while Jimmy squeezed his knees. Finally, Jimmy said, "I just get angry so easily. I know I shouldn't, but..."

"I'm going to stop you right there," said Maxine. "It's perfectly normal, even healthy, to experience emotions."

"Even anger?"

"Of course. Much like pain and pleasure communicates what's happening to our bodies, our emotions communicate what's happening in our lives. Even unpleasant emotions like fear, sadness and anger serve a purpose. From what you told me about the incidents with Buster Moon, you had every right to be angry. Anyone that tells you otherwise doesn't respect you as a person."

"You serious?" Jimmy puffed out his chest in validation. "Yeah! I always said I didn't get enough respect around here! Wait, so where's the problem?"

"I see your issue as twofold. The first is that you let your emotions, especially anger, take the wheel. Like any vehicle driving at dangerous speeds, a crash is inevitable. Once your mind clears, you'll have to deal with the fallout. You were in a bad situation, but if you examine the way you respond to your problems at the height of your anger, you'll likely find that you made them worse. If you had control over your anger, Buster Moon wouldn't have had a leg to stand on."

"You're starting to sound like Cleo."

"Good. You should listen to her. The second issue is that you aren't taking the time ask why you feel the way you do. Particularly, why were you so angry with Moon?"

"You got problems with short-term memory or somethin'? I told you he lied to me from the second I met him!"

"A lie can affect people in many ways. I want you to think about and examine exactly what impact his lie had on you that could leave you enraged."

"He manipulated me, he humiliated me, and he left me with few options to clean up that mess."

"Would you say that you felt disempowered?"

"Whaddya think? Once the show was in full production, there wasn't much I could do about it. Even if I cancelled the show on the spot once I knew Moon was lying, that's money and time down the drain. Not to mention investors on my ass looking for answers."

"Have you found yourself dealing with feelings of powerlessness throughout your life? Perhaps in your childhood?"

Jimmy opened his maw, but nothing came out. He pointed at Maxine and said, "Nice try but I already said I ain't talking about that!"

Maxine gave him a tiny smile. "Okay, let's talk about the aftermath of the conflict. It sounds like you understand you took things too far with Buster Moon. Have you made proper amends with him yet?"

"I told you I called off Operation: Moonfall and even reupped his contract with Crystal Entertainment."

"A truce just means you won't attack him anymore; it doesn't mean you've taken responsibility for the harm you've caused. And from what you've said earlier, that contract was the original plan before the lies came to light." Maxine maintained her serious gaze as Jimmy slowly sank into the seat. "Jimmy, you tried to kill him. He almost died because of you. That's trauma that will likely follow him for the rest of his life."

"They don't exactly make 'sorry I tried to kill you' cards at Hallmark."

"You seem like a straightforward guy to me. Why a card?"

"Believe or not, some of my best threats were on cards." Jimmy flashed a grin that was half-sarcastic and half-truth. Maxine curiously shifted in her seat, turning his grin upside down. "Look, it's not like he'd accept my apology."

"How do you know if you haven't tried?"

"Because I couldn't forgive him after what he put me through! Why would he feel any different?"

"He doesn't have to accept your apology, but making the effort says a lot on your part."

Jimmy grumbled something unintelligible. Maxine knew when to stop pushing.

"Let's move on to something else," she said. "Do you experience periods of self-loathing?"

Eyes burning with indignation, tail flicking violently, Jimmy snapped with, "What are you getting at?"

"You said something that really gripped me when you described confronting Buster Moon in your office. Do you remember what it was?"

"You mean when I said I'd put him through the window?"

"You asked him if he thought you were a bozo or an idiot."

"So? That's how he made me feel."

"He didn't bring those words into the conversation. You did. Is that how you perceive yourself at times?"

The fire went out in Jimmy's eyes. His gaze lowered and swept for the floor. "Doesn't everybody?"

"I'm only concerned about you right now."

After a moment, Jimmy said, "I can't be affected by something like that."

"On the contrary, I think you will see that the catastrophizing you did about your career when you found out you were swindled by Moon can be an example of—"

"You misunderstood me," Jimmy stressed, a current of bitterness carrying his words. "I'm the peak of success in this city. Kids wanted to be me when they grew up. People hate me because I'm so successful. When you hit a certain echelon of fame, the public sees you as less of a person. Telling the world that I wake up feeling like a phony sometimes, that I think my career is on the verge of collapse, that I'm not sure if my accomplishments are due to luck or talent... I have it too good to feel bad. You tell the world that Jimmy Crystal hates himself, and that just makes it open season. I can't be affected by something like that because we live in a world where someone like me doesn't have the right to those feelings, you got that?"

"The world doesn't need to know about or have a say in your private battles. Like I said, I'm only concerned about you."

A soft alarm sounded from Maxine's desk.

"That's all for this session," she said.

Jimmy's eyes fluttered as if waking from a dream. "It's over? Already?"

"Half of our time was spent in a lovely bout of silence."

"Y'know, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. You're the first therapist that didn't make me feel like a monster."

"My job isn't to pass judgment on you, it's to give you the tools to improve the quality of your life so that one day you won't need my help. Besides, I'm familiar with Oliver Schwartz, and in my opinion, he should've retired ten years ago."

"You think so?"

"Don't get me wrong; I don't think he's bad at his job. Sometimes things just run their course. It's not wrong to move on to the next chapter of your life. Hopefully retirement treats him well."

Jimmy handed the jar back over to Maxine. She shook it, watching the smattering of crumbs dance at the bottom.

"This was supposed to last a week's worth of clients," she said.

Jimmy shrugged. "Had a lot to get off my chest."

Maxine moved over to her desk, leaving the jar and clipboard on top. She opened one of the drawers and rummaged around until she came back up with a clear folder holding a packet of papers.

"There are two things I really want to address before you leave," she said.

Jimmy stood and fastened his suit jacket. "Go on," he replied,

"You do not have your anger under control and that concerns me," she said. "Much of your anger and anxiety appears to be triggered by perceived powerlessness. You lash out and inflict suffering because it feels like power, but it's actually an act of powerlessness from someone that believes they have no better options."

Jimmy watched her, pensive and silent.

"That's why I want you to remember this next thing I'm going to say." Maxine paused to make sure she had Jimmy's undivided attention. "We can't always control our circumstances, but we can control how we respond to them," she said. "Could you repeat this, please?"

Jimmy nearly rolled his eyes but repeated the phrase back to Maxine. "We can't always control our circumstances, but we can control how we respond to them."

"That's good," she said. "I want you to say it again, but this time apply it to yourself."

"I can't always control my circumstances, but I can control how I respond to them."

"It's imperative that you remember that. I need you to believe it. Make it your mantra. Whenever you feel your anger boiling over, think about that. Say it out loud; I don't care where you are or how other people look at you. As long as you remember that you're in control of yourself, you won't make a bad situation worse like with what happened to Buster Moon."

Maxine stepped around the desk and handed Jimmy the clear folder. He opened it and flipped through the pages stapled together.

"What's this? Homework?" Jimmy's muzzle nearly curled into a snarl. "Yeah, no. I was never great at school."

"This is the second thing. It's an empathy worksheet. You have diminished empathy. It's why you screamed at your daughter when she was crying about her role in the show. It's why you felt all of Buster Moon's mistakes were personal attacks. The exercises in this folder should help teach you about empathy and how to build it. Greater empathy will allow you to build more meaningful relationships with other people and strengthen the relationships you already have. I can count on you to read that before our next session, right?"

"Next session?"

"There will be a next session, yes?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said slowly. "Yeah, I think so."

"Good. There's much I want to help you with. Maybe we can explore your past a little more."

"Maybe."

"I'm rooting for you, Jimmy."

As Jimmy left Maxine's office, he couldn't help but thumb through the pages of the worksheet. Echoes from the past started to haunt him in the form of Porsha's sobbing.

"Would you be quiet? You've embarrassed me enough."

"But Daddy...!"

Squeezing the pages, Jimmy murmured, "Empathy, huh?"

A/N

FFN is being wonky again so I had to do some funky stuff to upload this chapter. Hopefully none of the formatting is broken.