The girl dug her fingers down . Immediately she gagged and a flood of partly digested food and acid rushed up from her stomach and out of her oesophagus. Her vomit tasted sour and bitter, as usual. It left her chest burning and her teeth feeling tingly. She wiped and runny nose with the toilet roll. She rose up from the girls’ bathroom floor, her legs weak, and closed the toilet lid. Sitting on it, she flushed. Then, with extra pieces of toilet roll, she dabbed at her tears as she silently wept. 

MOONBYUL

I ran my hand over the back of my neck and felt the fine sheen of building sweat. My office hours were over and Soo-ji had left, but in her stead, she brought Wheein to see me. It was strange, seeing her after all this time. She looked different. Her long straight raven-black hair was now light brown and curled. However, Wheein must have also thought I had changed. My jet black hair had turned into a light ash-brown colour. Time doesn't still for anything. 

I sat on my chair, while Wheein sat on the chaise lounge. Even though she looked different, it was a familiar sight. However, I was too preoccupied to fully focus on her. Again I glanced at my clock. It was 18:07. I should have been in my car by now, on my way home. My body was uneasy, my nerves jittery. I fiddled with my notes, ensuring they were in a perfectly straight stack, to keep my mind off the time.

“You’ve changed things around.” Wheein noticed.

I looked at her. “Yes. Trying to keep things spicy.”

Wheein chortled. “You need more spice in your life?”

I smiled, slightly calming down. It was true that my job wasn’t exactly the most boring careers out there. Wheein had first-hand experience.

It was comfortable having her sitting there. Even though it was good not to see her on that therapy couch, I also missed her. I was somewhat attached to her. Wheein was my first ever client after all. I watched her as she lightly touched the leather. She must have been wondering what other secrets were spilled on that sofa.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

Wheein met my eyes. They were bright. The complete opposite of how they were when we first met.

“I’m fine.” Wheein answered. “But I do need help.”

Wheein stopped, processing her thoughts. I waited. I always waited.

“My friend she… She hurt herself today. She’s fine, just a broken wrist. She just needs to spend the night at the hospital since they had to operate.”

“I’m glad she’s fine, but how does this concern me?”

I had stopped being a residential doctor once I specialised in psychiatry and that was three years ago. Although I still remembered my general medical knowledge, I didn’t see how I could help someone with a broken wrist. There was something more and only Wheein could tell me.

“She has…” Wheein trailed off. I noticed the way she looked down. She was rethinking her words. It peaked my curiosity.

“I want you to see her.” Wheein ultimately said.

“Why? Does she want to be seen by a psychiatrist?”

“Actually… could you pretend to be her physiotherapist?”

If I wasn’t confused before, I truly was then. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, can you keep it a secret that you’re a psychiatrist?”

I couldn’t believe what Wheein was asking of me. It was the first time I'd seen her in over a year and she was asking me to break all the rules. It was a good thing I was a psychiatrist because I thought Wheein must have lost her mind. 

“You know I can’t do that Wheein. It’s against protocol and my code of conduct and the law. I have to obtain consent from the person seeking treatment.”

“But she really needs help.” Wheein emphasised.

“Even so Wheein, she needs to give her full consent. I can’t lie to someone. That would be fraud, I would be abusing my power, and that’s against all ethics.”

I would also be risking my career, my practice, and everything that I’ve gained through my sweat and tears. Even if it was Wheein, I couldn't do that. Not after everything. She had her friend, but I had my dreams. 

Wheein looked deflated. I knew I was being stern, but I had to set my foot down. It was seriously unethical to even consider lying to a person even before sessions began, especially in a place which was meant to provide an environment to allow full confidentiality and honesty.

However, it clicked in my mind. There were some people not mentally capable to give their own consent. Perhaps Wheein’s friend was someone who was not able to provide their consent independently.

“If I don’t receive permission from her, if she is not capable to provide her own consent, then I would accept the guardian’s.”

“I am her guardian.”

I raised by brow, gazing sceptically at Wheein.

“Well, I’m her manager.” Before I can shake my head, Wheein continued. “Please Moonbyul. She needs help. Just one appointment, as a favour to me.”

She pulled that card. I gazed at Wheein, closely. Not only was her appearance different, but her entire aura. No longer did her body fold into itself; her posture was open and free. She didn’t fiddle her fingers anymore; she was more decisive and sure. She didn't avoid my gaze; she stared straight back. Wheein was stronger.

It felt strange, surreal, seeing that 18 year old student turn into a confident young woman. Even though Wheein had accredited her salvation to me, I always knew Wheein was strong. She just didn’t know it. If only I was that tough.

I glanced at the clock. It was 18:17. My hands twitched again as stress rose up inside me. Urgency spread through my body, which I tried to subdue. This was the latest I’ve stayed in my office. I always leave at 18:00 on the dot. I stand up, bag on my shoulder, ready to go.

“I’ll see her.” I finally surrendered.

Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of me when Wheein’s hard body jumped against me. Her abrupt embrace was tight and warm, making my body even hotter. However, I smiled and wrapped my arms around the younger woman, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you Moonbyul.” I heard her say against my shoulder.

I continued to grin and I playfully poked her cheek. I’ve always liked her dimple.

“But I’m not promising anything.” I said, returning back to my professional self. “And it will be during my lunch, out of my working hours.”

If I saw Wheein’s friend outside of hours, she technically wouldn’t be a patient. At least, that’s what I convinced myself. Although I wondered if I provided that loophole to the Psychiatry Council, would it work.

*

HWASA

It was an average night at the bar. Relatively quiet, but not desolate. The usual atmosphere for a mid-week evening. I casually wiped the bar counter, paying attention to the conversation which floated around, with many people talking, but few actually listening.

“You’re hurting me!”

I easily heard the sharp exclaim over the jazz music. I saw a young woman, distraught, as her wrist was being held tightly by a taller man staring at her with disdain. From his unsteady stance, I could tell he was drunk.

“Hey!” I yelled over. I cut off the music.

The pair turned to me. Her gaze was one of gratitude, while his was one of annoyance.

“You better leave her alone.” I growled.

The guy was about to retort when he realised that he was being stared at by many patrons, all wearing the same disdained expression as he was, but directed at him. The young man immediately let go of the woman’s arm. The woman quickly went back to her group of friends. He was standing alone and looked like a little boy caught red-handed in the midst of doing something bad.

“I didn’t-“

I immediately cut off his excuse. “When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t.” 

He was silent and everyone murmured in agreement. 

“Did you hand in your keys?” I asked. It was one of the bar’s policies, where every driver had to hand in their keys and when they leave, they would have them returned. However, if deemed too tipsy or drunk, then they would have to either stay in the spare rooms or go home another way. Either way, they would not be allowed to drink and drive. I wouldn’t allow it.

The man shook his head.

“Okay then, you can leave now.”

The guy looked astounded at first, but with no one to back him up, he scuttled away. The patrons, men and women alike, cheered as the shamed man left the bar.

“Sorry everyone for that scene.” I announced. “Let’s continue this y evening.”

The people cheered and I happily started the music again.

“Looks like Hwa-Lion made another appearance tonight.”

I turned and found Wheein to be sitting at the counter, on her usual seat. I grinned and immediately poured her and myself a shot.

“Some people can be idiots.” I said, admitting the sad fact.

She chuckled. “I’ll drink to that.”

We cheered and downed our alcohol. With a satisfied hiss, I went to pour Wheein a pint of beer.

“So what brings you here to my lovely abode?” I asked.

“I just needed time to relax. Solar hurt herself during the shoot and she’s at the hospital at the moment.”

“Is she okay?” 

Wheein sips at her beer, dismissing my concern. “She’s fine, just a broken wrist. But she’ll need to take some time off.”

“And how does she feel about that?” I asked. I had never met Solar before, but from Wheein told me, she seemed like a workaholic. But then again, I supposed all actors and actresses were. 

“I don’t know yet. I visited her before I came here but she was still knocked out. They must have given her some wicked painkillers.”

I laughed. “I think I need some of that.”

It was Wheein's turn to be concerned. “You still have trouble sleeping?”

And my turn to dismiss it.

I shrugged. “Well, it’s fine. It’s not like I need to be awake during the days.”

“True.”

Wheein took another gulp of her beer.

“I assume you’ll be staying the night then?”

Wheein grinned. “Did you even have to ask?”

*

MOONBYUL

Jason’s arms were crossed tightly around his body, his chin tucked inside his black hoodie, as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible or attempting to make himself disappear. However, his mother kept him grounded as she stared at him worriedly. At 22, Jason was officially diagnosed with simple schizophrenia, after he started showing symptoms when he was 20. People around him first noticed the change as he was apparently a bright person, who took care of his appearance, as well as others. He was social but also caring. However, he started to change suddenly. He withdrew socially and his hygiene and mood declined. People thought it was depression at first, but that was disregarded because there was no trigger and antidepressants did not work. Finally, after some deducing, they proposed simple schizophrenia. Although it’s not formally recognised, as it is controversial, he met the criteria and with continuous investigation, they concluded it was that. Jason recently started antipsychotics. However, talk therapy has been found to be effective in controlling symptoms as well, so it was his first session.

“I’m sorry about Jason, he’s just a bit shy.” his mother said, slightly forcing her smile.

“It’s fine.” I replied, offering my own reassuring smile. “How are you today Jason?”

He didn’t reply. He just sat silently, staring down at the floor. A rather classic sign of simple schizophrenia. I could tell his mother was getting nervous as her smile faltered.

“Are you okay with your mother being here in our sessions?” I asked.

Again he didn’t react. I already had written consent from his doctor, as well as mother, to provide the therapy, but it felt right to ask anyway.

I looked towards his mother who had not taken her eyes off her son for most of the session already.

“How are you Jason’s mother?”

She looked at me, rather shocked. It’s like the first time she even thought about herself.

“I’m fine.” she simply answered.

I nodded, even though I don’t believe her. Talk therapy wasn’t just for the patients. It was also for their carers who may have difficulties adjusting to the sudden change of personality. If Jason’s history was correct, then he would seem like a completely different person to his mother and she was still expected to take care of him because he was her own flesh and blood. However, how could you care for someone who was completely different from how you knew them before, even if it has been two years since the first signs?  Everyone needs time to adjust; it’s just a different length depending on the person.  

She touched Jason carefully on the shoulder but he jumped, folding into himself even more. Jason’s mother looked like she wanted to cry.

“Do you know his stressors?” I asked her. “Things that trigger or worsen his symptoms.”

“He doesn’t like loud noises or sudden touches.”

“And how is he getting along with his medication?”

“He takes them but it seems to not be working.” I heard the edge of frustration in Jason’s mother’s voice.

“That’s to be expected. Since he only just started, it may take a few weeks to show their effects. But he hasn’t had any other episodes?”

“No.” I could tell she was disappointed by my answer. However, there’s no quick solution to an ongoing problem.

“That’s good to hear.”

“Do you think he’ll get better? I mean, get back to himself.”

Jason’s mother looked at me, her eyes glistening with optimism. I had to choose my words carefully. This was when people’s hopes were the highest, but the most vulnerable. If they fell from such a height, it would be devastating. It’s not easy to piece yourself together when you shatter into a million pieces.  

“He was diagnosed early and there was early intervention so the outcome looks promising. But it may take time to see how well the treatment suits Jason.”

Jason remained mute, withdrawn, as me and his mother continue to discuss his condition. I knew he was listening but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He was lost in his own head. How dark it must feel to be a stranger in your own mind, the only place we can be ourselves.

The session drew to a close and Jason quietly left to room, his shoulders slumped. His mother said her farewells, but before she left, I spoke.

“Jason’s mother.” she stopped and stared at me. The small women, who appeared even smaller next to her tall lanky son, was drained.

“If you need to talk, my doors are always open.”

She smiled, a small smile, but it wasn’t forced. “Thank you Dr Moon.”

“I’ll see you next week.”

Jason’s mother nodded and closed the door. Even though my door was closed, I stared after them. I imagined Jason being carefully led back to their car and his mother mentally preparing for another week of adjusting to her son’s new behaviour. I hoped that they would be fine, but in reality, being ‘fine’ wasn’t as easy as it’s made out to be.

*

SOLAR

“Is this really necessary?” I asked.

It was the week after my surgery and Wheein was driving me to my physiotherapy session. It was already bad enough that I had to take a two month break from filming. Even though the director was fine with it, relaying that he would be able to film most of Eric’s individual scenes in that time and that I should spend this time to recover, I still felt awful. I couldn't believe due to my clumsiness, filming would be delayed. I was disappointed at the situation, but most disappointed with myself. 

“It is if you want to get full function back in your wrist.” Wheein said. “It’s only for thirty minutes.”

I knew Wheein was right. Chun-hyang was an active character and I needed full function of my hand if I needed to play the part. However, I still didn’t want to go. I hated doctors, hospitals, and clinics in general. They were just so sterile, so depressing.

“But I have to go back every week right?” I asked.

Wheein bit her lip. “We’ll see after the first session.”

Well, it should be fine. It seemed like it was Wheein’s friend who was the physiotherapist and if they were anything like Wheein, I’m sure they’ll be nice.

When we arrive, I’m slightly taken aback. It was in a middle of a quiet street and looked just like a normal office building. There was no sign indicating that it was a clinic. When we went inside, there were no white walls or sterile atmosphere or bored staff. Instead, the walls were a warm yellow and it smelled of vanilla and the receptionist happily greeted us and showed us to the open waiting area, where a number of seats were. It was also desolate, unlike the other clinics I’ve been to where there were a load of coughing and sniffling people, waiting impatiently to be seen.

“Dr Moon will see you now.” called the receptionist.

I looked to Wheein who patted my hand. She knew I was feeling nervous. She knew doctors always made me nervous.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

I nodded and took a deep breath in. I stood up and headed to the office. When I opened the door, I expected to see an older man sitting at a dark oak desk inside a clean white room, with a large medical table holding a number of instruments and devices, with walls decorated with medical posters and anatomical figures.

However, when I stepped inside, I saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.

And that's the second chapter! Thank you guys for the subscriptions and comments. How are people liking the new writing style? I hope it's not too confusing ^^;

I am working on the next chapter so hopefully will update soon :D