The Red Market (mxmxm)

* Ch. 21 *

TW: This chapter will be very heavy and deals with the following topics, if you do not feel comfortable reading this chapter DO NOT WORRY anything plot relevant will be summarized at the beginning of the next chapter, take care of yourselves <3

- sex work/extortion
- addiction (alcohol and drugs)
- parental neglect and abuse
- childhood trauma and abuse

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sit on a hard chair in a room way too hot with the slightest hum of the lights filling the room. I sit in the waiting room drumming my fingers on my knees, debating on whether or not I should just run. I had promised Master and Sir to try out this therapy thing, but the wait was daunting enough. Just knowing that within a few minutes some doctor is going to want me to pour my whole life story out to them then expect me to leave within an hour as if nothing happened. I stare at a colorful playset that sits in the corner, one of the ones where you spin and thread the wooden beads around the curling wires. I faintly remember playing with one at a doctor's office when I was a kid. I quickly stop and look away before getting too caught up in memories. I continue to look around, never really letting my eyes settle as I continue to tap away at my knees, my palms becoming sweatier by the second before a stout old lady appears at the door.

"Elliot?" She asks, her voice gentle as she looks at me.

I feel my heart jump into my throat as I nod and stand up, fixing my shirt. She leads be down a beige hallway with soft lighting that's lined with doors before we reach the end of the hallway. She opens the door to an empty room and tells me that the doctor will be "right with you dear". I pace around the room, a framed painting of a generic nature scene hangs on the wall across a black leather sofa. In the corner sits a large matching armchair that faces diagonally towards to door. The lighting in here is definitely brighter, but still soft and the hum isn't nearly as loud. Right beside the couch is a small table that holds a giant box of kleenex and a box filled with figurines and toys. I take a seat on the couch and sink into the over-plush seat. I don't wait long until the doorknob turns and a woman steps in.

She looked surprisingly young and wore her hair down with casual business clothes, not exactly what I pictured. I stand and put my hand out to shake. She looked surprised as she shook my hand with a soft smile.

"Elliot McCarrey?"

I nod.

"You can go ahead and take a seat while I set up a bit." She takes a seat in the arm chair and fishes out a small notebook from her shoulder bag. I take my seat again and fidget with my hands as she sets her things beside the chair and opens the book, taking note of the date and time.

"Okay," she says, shifting in her chair to get comfortable. "Have you been to therapy before by chance?"

"Uh, no. Never."

"That's all good," she smiles, her hand taking notes without looking away.

"My name is Dr. Shana Morris, I've been practicing now for seven years, and graduated from Harrison University. Today we won't be going into anything too deep, more just gauging what you want to get from our meetings and planning out what we can do," She informs me, her voice calm and reassuring. I feel a weight lift as she tells me we won't go too deep and nod slightly.

"Do you have any questions before we get started?" She asks.

"Um, no, not really. I've just- I've never done this before."

"That's totally okay. You don't have to disclose anything you don't want to, we'll take this at your pace. Now, do you have another name you'd rather go by, or is Elliot okay?"