“Miss Jung, please sit down. Our session isn’t over yet,” Mr. Choi said, his voice calm as ever, as he kindly looked at Hana, who had just jumped off her chair, causing it to fall over, thus bringing unwanted attention from several passerby in the corridor. A few faces were pressed against the alabaster glass of the door, eyes wide and ears pricked up. 

The girl breathed out through her nose and shot the psychiatrist a glare. “It has never begun in the first place,” she sharply said, mentally cursing the nurses who had dragged her here. Without further ado, she turned around and walked to the door, her shinbone hitting the chair. Pain shot through her leg and her eyebrows knitted together, a curse slipping from her lips. When she looked up, she spotted the curious faces at the door. Disgust rose up inside her, her stomach twisting. The desire to claw out those amusement seeking eyes overcame her. They were amused by her misery, delighting in mischief. Taking a shaky breath, she narrowed her eyes and shot them a glare, as she reached the door. Just as she wrapped her fingers around the door-handle, she felt a pressure on her shoulder and was turned around by it.

Staring into the harsh, brown eyes of Mr. Choi, she breathed out shakily.

“Miss Jung, we haven't had a proper session yet. Not even once,” he slowly said, pulling her with him; his hand was now gripping her arm roughly. With one hand, he put up the chair, and pushed the girl down, until she was seated on it. He then let go and locked gazes with her. “Do you want to stay like this forever, Miss Jung?” He asked, and all of a sudden, the kind and understanding tone was gone. Replaced by an almost mocking one.

“I was kind enough to offer my help, but you're being more trouble than any other patients in this hospital. I only want you to talk. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Hana didn’t say anything, just stared at him, her eyes cold. Mr. Choi inhaled angrily.

“But since you're refusing to heavily,” he leaned a bit forward, a smile tugging at his lips – a cruel one –, “just continue to live in that broken world of yours.” His smile widened. “You don’t need help? Fine. Continue to be crazy,” Mr. Choi said, his voice sharp as a knife. The psychiatrist disappeared for a few seconds and the person Choi Myungsoo appeared, stressed and annoyed by his work, by his patients. His words weren't something a psychiatrist should say, but for a moment he had just lost himself.

As the realization hit him, he snapped back to being the psychiatrist Mr. Choi. “Oh, I'm so–”

“ –Fine,” Hana interrupted him coldly. “I'll continue to live in my broken world,” she whispered with a sharp voice. She stood up again and sent the male a glare. “I'll continue to be crazy.”

Mr. Choi gulped nervously. Damn, he wasn’t supposed to let the situation escalate. He wasn’t supposed to snap at the patients. It would make him lose their trust in him. And that was most-likely the worst for a psychiatrist. However, Hana hadn't trusted him in the first place. 

“Oh, miss Jung, I don’t know what came over me. I'm sincerely sorry. It was just–”

“Tch,” Hana snorted, her hand gripping the back of the chair. “You just showed me how fake you are,” she hissed. “Admit it. Come on. You'd love to see me suffer, don’t you?” She laughed. “First you act all kind and nice, saying you want to help me, want to understand me …” she trailed off and tightened her grip around the chair before she threw it to the side. “But on the inside, you don’t give a !” She laughed even louder, her laughter filling the room.

“You're the same as the whole world. And you said you wanted to help me?” She asked loudly, her voice perceptible all over the corridor. “Don't make me laugh,” she snorted.

“I don’t need insincere help. I don’t need you to act as if you understood,” she hissed.

“Miss Jung, that was a misunderstanding,” Mr. Choi said, his voice calm again – he wanted to save the situation as well as he could, as what he needed the least were rumors about him fighting with one of his patients. “Why are you accusing me of all that? I truly want to help you.” He put up the chair again and reached out to grab Hana's arm.

He gave her a friendly smile – one that looked almost creepy, because it was utterly wide and yet, it didn’t reach his eyes at all. “How about we sit down again and just start anew.”

Hana violently shook his hand off and stepped back, glaring at him, her eyes full of hostility. “Don't give me this !” She screamed. “Cut off that act of yours. It's not working,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just leave me alone!” She screamed again and turned around to stomp to the door.

All eyes were staring at her, intimidation evident in them. Shooting all the spectators at the door a deadly glare, she kicked against the door. “And all of you! off!” She yelled at them, her eyes wide in fury. “Just off!” She screamed before she turned around again, glaring at the psychiatrist. “And you!” She looked up and glared at him, her eye twitching a bit. She wanted to say so much, but her mind was incapable of phrasing any coherent sentences,

“All of you, just rot!” She screamed again, not even noticing the tears that had gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. She was about to scream even more, to insult the psychiatrist and the spectators, when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled away. Half stumbling, she was being dragged out of the room, her eyes still fixated on Mr. Choi, gaze filled with anger.

While the hand was still pulling her away, she looked at all the passerby next to the door, who were exchanging hushed words with each other. She watched as gazes focused on her, the terrible judging look in them. Some shook their heads, as though they were saying It's too lat