Wendy's parents came to visit her the next day. There wasn't really an active interaction between them. It was mostly awkward. Wendy could see her mother holding back from asking certain questions. She didn't like how it felt as if her own parents were tiptoeing around her- carefully threading their words so as to not trigger something unpleasant in her.

But Wendy sort of prefers it to be that way. She doesn't quite fancy the idea of talking things out with her parents.

The brunette is at the garden, out to get some fresh air. She is squatting down while counting the number of little ants crawling on the ground. At the same time, she feels sad at the thought of their unfortunate fate should they be squashed by humans. She wonders if ants ever felt that they're at a disadvantage for being tiny. Humans love to whine about everything, and Wendy also wonders if ants, or any other animals do the same.

"Twenty-three." She inwardly groans. Why does it have to be an odd number again? And so, she desperately tries to find another ant to make the total count even. After several minutes of searching for the wanted ant, Wendy finally gives up. Maybe ants don't like her that much. She stands up and fixes her eyes on the sky. Then her gaze slowly dips to the wired fences that separate her from the outside world.

It makes her heart ache. She's stuck in here, while the outside world is still running perfectly. Without her. She's like a demerit good- harmful and exhibits negative externalities. That's what she think she is. Or, perhaps not even a speck of that, for at least demerit goods like fast food and cigarettes are still desired. Unlike her. These goods probably feel offended that she's using them as benchmarks.

Wendy eventually concludes that she's insignificant to the society.

Sometimes Wendy wonders who to put the blame on for her current situation. Her parents for not giving the proper care and guidance? She doesn't remember spending much time with her parents since her childhood years. They were always so busy, still are. To make up for the lack of attention given to her, they often bought her lavish toys. But there's only so much inanimate things can do. The lack of parental attention during her early years caused her to develop avoidant attachment towards them. That's how the internal working model works. She remembers Irene explaining to her about Bowlby's attachment theory. By the time her parents stepped in and tried to fix things, it was too late. If she were to ever have a family of her own, Wendy will shower her child with infinite love. She doesn't want her child to be brought up in the environment she grew up in.

Her mind then drifts to her former lover. Should her former girlfriend be blamed for causing her to be in this state? It genuinely upsetted her that her girlfriend couldn't keep her promise. Wendy detests broken, and empty promises. False hope is the worst type of hope to have.

The brunette crosses out both options and sighs. She only has herself to blame for her inability to handle her issues well.

She shakes her head, shaking off her thoughts at the same time. She wheels around, and catches sight of Momo, or Ayumi sitting on the bench. Seeing the wide grin plastered on the blonde's face, it's more likely to be Ayumi. She returns a smile, and walks over to the blonde.

“Hey princess,” the blonde greets the brunette with a smug smile.

Yup, definitely Ayumi.

Wendy narrows her eyes slightly. “Why are you looking so smug?”

The blonde an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to make full use of my facial muscles?”

“Of course you can,” Wendy responds with a half-smile.

“Here,” Ayumi pats on the space beside her, “Sit with me, princess.”

“Why do you call me princess? I’m not a princess.”

“Should I call you queen then? Since you’re the queen of my heart,” Ayumi grins ear to ear as Wendy flushes involuntarily. She reaches for the brunette’s hand. “Winter’s coming," she continues, gently tugging on Wendy's wrist, prompting the brunette to sit on her lap instead. "Are you excited?”

“It’s my favourite season," Wendy answers as she settles comfortably on Ayumi's lap.

“Then that shall be my favourite season too,” Ayumi remarks as she wraps her arms loosely around the brunette's waist.

"Is my list of favourite things going to be yours too?" She asks, looking over her shoulder, with a crease running through her eyes.

Ayumi's lips pull upwards into a teasing smile. "Maybe," she says. A smirk crosses her face for a fraction of a second as she notices a familiar figure observing them from the corner of her eye. She presses her nose against Wendy's back. "You smell good, princess."

"It isn't good to lie."

"Well, I'm not lying. You do smell good." Ayumi hears footsteps approaching them, and lifts her head to look at the figure standing before them.

"Seems like the two of you are a little too comfortable with each other."

"She's my girlfriend, I don't see any problem with that," the blonde counters.

Irene blanks her face, trying to hide her distaste. "Relationships are strongly discouraged here." It annoys her slightly - a hell lot - when she notices Wendy's tomato red face. Why does Wendy blush so easily? Other times the psychiatrist finds the sight adorable, but just not today, especially not today, simply due to the fact that Ayumi- Momo is the reason for it.

Ayumi rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to get her pregnant, Irene."

"No ual activities allowed here," Irene asserts, as she shoots a glance at Wendy who has turned even redder. "Don't be late for your session later, Wendy."

Wendy looks at Irene in confusion. She has never been late for any therapy sessions, but she nods anyway.

"See you later," Irene says, her voice monotonous.

"Seems like you've established quite a fanbase here," Irene comments, masking her annoyance after witnessing the scene between her two patients.

"What fanbase?"

"You’ve attracted quite a number of patients here," the psychiatrist points out.

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have a fanbase too?”

“Why would I have a fanbase?” Irene asks in bemusement.

“Because you’re pretty and kind.”

“No, I don’t have any fanbase, Wendy.”

"Are you okay?"

"Why the random question?"

"You seem bothered by something."

Extremely. Irene is totally, exceptionally and exceedingly bothered by the fact that everyone seems to be crushing on Wendy. "Do you like staying here, Wendy?"

"Not at all. Will I leave this place soon?"