Freudian Slip

Synopsis

JoonMyun feels like his stress level is too high and seeks out the help of a therapist. Even for a professional, there is no one on this planet that gets paid enough to listen to abberant ramblings like his.
 

Freudian Slip
A brain-to-mouth filter would be nice around now.

Theme Song √
The Importance of Being Idle - Oasis

Genre
Comedy, Slight Crack,

Characters
Kim JoonMyun & Choi ShinAe [O.C]

Status
In Progress

Word Count
Short story - Approximately 7-12,000 words

Start Date
6th November 2013

End Date
--/--/--

Warnings
Slight Crack

Forewords

JoonMyun shifted in his seat on the plush leather sofa facing an intimidating desk. Behind the desk, a fair skinned woman scanned her bespectacled eyes over a wad of paperwork in silence. Tucking a lock of the coal hair that had strayed from her bun back behind her ear, the female coughed lightly to clear . Placing her pen down and straightening up, the woman appearing a little too young for the job spared a small smile.

"Kim JoonMyun Ssi," Her voice was light and feathery and she locked eyes with the brunette sat across the finely decorated office. "you look nervous."

Squirming, the twenty two year old grimaced. "This is a bit embarrassing."

Two days ago, Kim JoonMyun had made an appointment to see a therapist over his building problems and the one that had taken his case was Doctor Choi ShinAe.

"No need to be shy; I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to help you." Lighting the end of a menthol cigarette, the demure beauty leaned back and gestured for her new patient to relax. "Everything you say here is entirely confidential." She slid one leg over the other and the man sitting across had his attention temporarily stolen by the tip of the Doctor's suspender strap peeking past the hem of her pencil skirt from under the heavy duty wooden desk.

Trying to swallow the lump stuck in the back of his try throat down, JoonMyun forced a smile in an attempt to mask his desperate unease. "Where should I start?"

"At the beginning, of course."

Voice hoarse from anxiety, the brunette fiddled with his fingers. "I'm the leader of a group, I have eleven other guys that I'm responsible for...It's starting to take its toll."

"Ah yes," the soft droll of the female's voice carried lightly across the cool space. "I'm quite the fan."

JoonMyun's eyes shot up to meet the professional's. "Really?"

Sticking her tongue out to wet her lips, the therapist glanced down to her files. "Tell me about how your stress is effecting you."

Shaking his head, the brunette hummed. "I snapped at our Maknae the other day. I was so fed up of him nagging for bubble tea that I locked him in the cleaning cupboard in the dark."

Tapping her nail on her desk, ShinAe questioned slowly. "How do you feel about it when you think back about it?"

"The truth?" JoonMyun watched the woman's expression for any sign of disgust as he tilted his head in thought. "It felt kinda good."

"What else?"

"I think I'm losing hair because I..." The man leaned forward with his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Whispering, the brunette confessed. "I heard ing causes hair loss."

"JoonMyun Ssi..." The Doctor's brows narrowed a fraction. "I don't think that's the cau---"

"But really, it's getting bad." ShinAe thought her client was about to go into great detail about his hair loss, but she was mistaken. "I sometimes have to do it when we're on shows."

"Not right in the open, I hope." Eyes lowering back to her work, she coughed to mask the smirk twitching on her lips.

"Oh no," He chuckled as a visual of disaccord from his fans when they say him in the middle of the stage. "In the bathroom."

"But is it an actual problem?"

"I tend to get arm cramp a lot and it hinders our choreo." He frowned like that was the biggest issue.

Placing her cigarette to her lips, the woman took a long drag and leaned her head to the side as if she was deeply thinking over the matter. "I think maybe you should get some help if that's the case."

As if he'd seen a light at the end of his oh-so-horrific tunnel, JoonMyun almost shot right out of his seat. "Is there anyone one who can actually help me?"

"Yes," ShinAe flicked her ash in the solid glass ashtray to her left. Leaning her elbow on the table and then her cheek against her up-propped hand, the professional deadpan. "they're called es."