99 Steps

Step 18: Talk to Someone

Jack's failed attempt at suicide was a few weeks ago now, and Mark had convinced him to see an actual therapist, someone who knew how to deal with this kind of stuff. Jack - believe it or not - had never seen a professional about his problems, instead he would break down to Zoey once every few months. And even then he would keep certain things in.

"Jack? Are you ready to go?" Mark knocked on the door, this time he actually waited for a response.

"Yeah, almost."

"Can I come in?" Jack made that "muhu" sound of approval. Mark walked in, seeing Jack fiddling around with his notebook. "Are you going to bring it?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to note what I was feeling but..." He pointed to the page, which read:

Today is my very first meeting with a therapist. What the fuck.

Mark chuckled, the little entry just screamed 'Jack' a thousand times. Sometimes he wanted to flip through the journal that was used as a diary, sketch book, notebook for quotes, and really anything else Jack wanted to use it for. Of course only if he said it was okay, Mark didn't want to cross anymore boundaries.

"I mean I feel like I should just leave it here. That way I don't bring up something that I don't want to talk about, you know?" Jack looked up to Mark, an innocent look on his face.

"I get where you're coming from, but you need to talk about anything that's bothering you. Okay? This is going to help you." Jack nodded, and tucked his notebook back in the drawer. The two walked out to Mark's car. As usual, Twenty One Pilots played loudly, but these were songs that Mark hadn't heard before. He didn't want to disturb the melody, so he listened to the lyrics and drove. That was Mark's job.

Jack's job, however, was to think about what songs to play so Mark could figure out how he was feeling without really telling him. He hovered his thumb over a song called Save. No, I'm happier than that. Lovely? That was good. He clicked on the title, looking out the window as if he was in some depressing love story of a movie that stereotyped everything the main character did, because the script writer had no idea what they were dealing with.

Before he knew it, Mark had pulled into a parking lot, in front of a building with some fancy name in it. "You ready for this?" He grabbed Jack's hand, looking him in the eye.

"Yeah. At least I'm ready to go in. Actually, fuck no. I'm not ready at all but I don't have much of a choice."

Mark walked with his boyfriend to the front desk, then checked him in. The lady at the counter told the two where they could find "Joe's" room - who was the therapist he was going to see. Jack asked him to walk back with him, too nervous to be on his own just yet.

The door was open, and a man was sitting at a desk, clicking through stuff on his laptop. Mark tapped on the door frame, not feeling like it was appropriate to walk right in.

The man looked up, and smiled. He glanced back down at laptop, and looked back up at Mark. "Jack?"

"Uh, no. I'm Mark. Jack is," he gestured behind him, stepping aside real quick.

"Oh." He closed his laptop and stood up. "Well, come on in. Both of you."

The two stepped inside, Mark stayed a step behind Jack, who felt small and terrified. He took a seat, and Mark put his hand on his shoulder. "Imma go, okay? Just text me when you're done. Unless if you want me to stay?"

"No, it's fine." Jack smiled, then quickly looked to Joe once Mark left with a curt nod.

"So, Jack. I'm Joe." He smiled awkwardly, then cleared his throat. "This is your first meeting with me."