the last

The first encounter

— claire's ("doc") pov

As a psychiatrist I see a lot of different people, but I've never met someone so special as him. I saw him standing in the opening of the door. Other psychiatrists named him "case impossible", but I thought I could change him. I don't know where I got that stupid idea from. He was beautiful but yet so neglected. His hair, what was drooping around his pale cheeks, was blonde, almost white, but not as white as his pale, dry skin. His brown, almond shaped eyes carried a mixture of shock and anger. He was wearing a plain, black, and dirty sweater matched with ripped jeans. The clothes were dirty, but they looked pretty on him. As I said, he looked neglected, but mysterious. I reached him my hand, I smiled, "Hello, what is your name?" His nails were bitten and dirty, his hands were even more pale then his face, it was attractive somehow. He looked up to me, right into my eyes. His brown, dark eyes radiated a fierce anger. He didn't answer my question, his mouth was shut. "If you are not answering my questions, why are you here?" He stared at me, he looked impressed. "I'm Agust, Agust d." I laughed, "Is that your real name? Or is it some kind of secret criminal name thing." Again, no answer, no reaction, nothing. I apologized, and I got the same look again: a look of anger, pure anger. "So, how are you feeling, Agust?" I asked, trying to place my hand on his. He didn't refuse my hand, I was surprised. I got no answer, at this point I'm not very surprised, since he is a case impossible. I looked at him, he was breathtaking. I turned red, I should not think like this, he's my client. He answered, 10 minutes later. "I'm okay." was his answer. "Just okay?" I asked him, I tried to find his eyes with mine, but he looked away. I knew he wasn't that shy, I just knew it. I got closer to him, just to win his trust. "What is your actual name? You can trust me, I'm your psychiatrist. You can tell me anything." His facial expression was beautiful, it looked like he was about to cry. First he refused to answer, but I knew that he actually wanted to tell me, and actually wanted to expose his feelings. "Come on, Agust. I'm a psychiatrist, I know what I'm doing" It looked like something broke him, he opened his mouth and a deep, warm voice came out "I was Min Yoongi, but not anymore. It feels like I'm becoming more of a monster as time passes. The monster called success that I paid with my youth, wants more wealth. The greed that used to be my tool is now turning to swallow me, ruin me and put a leash around my neck." I nodded, but I was confused. "What do you mean with success?" I saw a little smirk, but he tried to hide it. Well played, well played. "I'm just a Daegu rapper." Yoongi answered. I nodded, "Continue." His eyes were watery, but he tried to hide it. "On the dark side of a successful idol rapper, my frail self stands, a bit dangerous. Depression, compulsion, at times relapse. Hell no, maybe that's just my true self." he stopped. "No, Yoongi. Stop. You can get through this, I promise." Yoongi stared at the floor and continued "Feeling separated from reality. Conflicts with ideals make my head hurt. Social phobia started around age 18, around that time my mind became more polluted" I was speechless, I couldn't do anything more then nodding. Just nodding. Dangit I suck. He touched me, he was an artist. He could express his feelings so good. He continued, "Sometimes I'm afraid of myself too, from the self-disgust and depression coming to play again. Min Yoongi is already dead, I killed him" He stopped, I saw his tears falling on his pale cheeks, I was speechless. The only thing I could say was "Do you need a tissue?", how stupid. He shook his head and wiped his tears away. I was looking him straight in the eyes. "You can do this, we can do this.". He nodded, "It's always like.. um.. I act like I don't care, but I really do. Like a habit, I say "uh, I don't give a shit, I don't give a fuck". All those saying are, uh, trying to hide my weakness." I nodded, and wrote all of this down. Damn, there's some deep shit going on here. I wonder what happened why he is so sad. "What.. happened?" I asked. He cried, he was actually crying now. I made him cry. Such a strong, beautiful man. Crying. Crying because he's hurt. He wiped his tears away. "I've never been happy, never. Since when I was young my parents neglected me, like I was a piece of shit. I was an accident, an accident that got in the way. My dad, my dad was cheating on my mom. I found out when I was six. I was wondering why there were so many different women in the house. He told me that they were cleaners. I didn't believe it, when my mom came, they were gone. I tried to tell my mom but the only thing I got was punishment. She didn't believe me. Nobody believed me. Nobody loved me." I was speechless, he noticed. "You don't have to say anything. I'm talking." I nodded and I wrote it down. He was special, he shared his past with me in such an artistic way. He's such a strong person. He continued, "My mom, my mom started drinking. And my sister had a boyfriend. He wasn't good for her, I knew it. I tried to help her but all I got was "fuck off, this ain't your business". Her boyfriend was a drugs dealer, I believe his name was Taehyung. She, my sister, was addicted to him. Not to drugs, but to him. He was a bad boy, good for her reputation. Bad for her health. He forced her to do drugs too, and of course she got addicted. The drugs were taking over her relationship and they broke up in a fight. She was left addicted, lonely and sad. My heart cracked in thousand pieces. But I realised, she didn't care about me either. So why should I care?" I stopped him here, I was crying, he was crying. Everything was a mess. He looked at me and cried harder. I couldn't see how someone who seemed so cold-hearted can be like this. Can open up like this. I'm going to help him. I'm going to do everything to help him. I told him that everything is going to be okay. He shook his head, "No, it's more complicated than you think." He started to talk about his first and only love, Jimin. I listened and wrote everything down. He wiped his tears away and sighed, "I'm such a crybaby." a little smirk appeared on his face. "Don't worry, crying is good." I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked at him. "Continue, Yoongi. Tell me more about Jimin." Yoongi took a deep breath, "He, he looked at me. "Are you sure?". I nodded, I will do everything for him. He handed me the package. "Go to the place I told you, make sure that nobody's following you." He also handed me an old nokia, it's a flip phone. He continued. "If you think that somebody is following you, call with this phone. Don't bring your own phone." Jimin looked beautiful in the dark lightning. He was perfect: his messy, shiny, red hair was hanging in front of his eyes. His mad, dark eyes were looking at me. He had that bad boy vibe, but he could be very sweet. "Did you hear me?" I shook my head, "No, I got distracted. Sorry." He sighed, "Oh my- you are worthless, listen to me: I'm dead serious. Don't fuck this up." My heart cracked in thousand pieces. I replied "I won't". I don't even know why I was doing this. I wanted to make him happy. I stepped in the taxi he ordered for me. He said what I had to do and what I had to say. I greeted the driver and told him the address. It wasn't the address where I had to deliver the package, of course not. The taxi-driver tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. Jimin already paid him, so the only thing I had to do was step in and out. I told him goodbye, but got no reaction. Karma. I walked to the address, it was a pretty busy street so I couldn't see if someone was following me until I felt a hand on his shoulder. I turned around and got slapped in the face. I heard a male voice "Give it, now" I couldn't identify him. His voice sounded familiar. It's a very unique voice, one of a kind. I must have heard it before. He was with 4 other people, they were men. They all looked big and strong. The leader pushed me and I fell on the ground. I tried to stand up and run away. I tried to call Jimin. I tried to do anything. But I failed. There was a knife on my throat, I couldn't move. They punched me, they abused me and they stole the package. I tried to kick them, I tried to fight them. But everything hurt, my clothes were all ripped and destroyed, my I licked my lips, I tasted the bitter, bitter flavor of blood. I couldn't move. Everything hurt. I waited until they were gone. I tried to stand up, but fell immediately. The phone, Jimin's old nokia phone. I had to call him. It was the only number saved in the phone, I called him. He immediately picked up. I cried, "Jimin..." Apparently he already knew the news. He shouted "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" It broke my heart, he didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't ask it. "I..I am s-sorry Jimin..." I cried harder. Fuck. He started to swear in Korean, after five minutes he started to talk in English again. "How fucking stupid can you be?! Don't ever come to me again, okay? I'm done with you. I'll pack your bags and if you are here you leave immediately." I cried even harder. The only person I loved used me. Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone? I gave him my everything, I left my parents for him. He was the only thing that made me happy. Where do I have to sleep now? I ordered a taxi, laying on the ground. The driver saw my bruises and my red, swollen eyes. He helped me with standing up. Everything hurts, from my lips to my toes. He looked concerned, but he didn't ask anything. Not even an address, like he knew where I wanted to go to: to Jimin. It looks like every taxi knows about me. It kinda scared me. The taxi stopped at the beginning of the street. I thanked him and told him goodbye. I stepped out and fell. My foot, I think that there's something wrong with it. The taxi driver helped me again. I thanked him again, I tried to smile, but it hurt. Everything hurt. He helped me to Jimins house and I knocked on the door. I heard Jimins voice, and an other voice. It was a deep, deep male voice. Jimin opened the door and looked at me. I saw the disgust in his eyes. I saw the anger. "Come in. Now." he said. Still nothing sweet or caring. I did what he demanded me. Jimin was very rich, but he didn't have a very big house. From the corner of my eye I saw someone. It was a man, he was tall and I think he had brown hair, it was brushed perfectly, coconut head, I thought. I recognized him, his name was Jungkook. Jimin always told me that Jungkook was working for him, but when I came home both of them weren't working. Jimin pushed me on the couch, his eyes were spitting fire. "You had one job. One fucking job. And you failed." He stopped and looked for a reaction. The only thing I could do was crying. So hard. I looked away and he noticed. "Look at me Yoongi. Give me everything back: the nokia phone, your phone, your money, everything. And you, you are going to pay everything back." I could see his veins, I could see the anger in his eyes. Everything changed: I was afraid of him." He was... homeless? I asked myself. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Do I look okay?!" Yoongi answered. His adittude scared me. "I'm sorry. Just trying to help. Is there more you need to tell?" He nodded his head "I stared at him. "But... Jimin-" He interrupted me, "No. Fucking. Buts. I packed your bags, I took back the things I bought for you. You ungrateful spolied brat!" I looked at the backpack, there was almost nothing in it. No money, no food, no phone. I stared at him with tears in my eyes. "Jimin... I love you..." He looked away, he didn't care. He never did. I was his slave, I did everything for him and he used me. My heart was broken. I had to do something. But what? I was hopeless, my whole body hurt and he had Jungkook, right? I saw them both standing there, Jungkook had a little smirk on his face. I didn't like it. I wanted to open my mouth and yell at him. But Jimin already started talking "Do you really think I loved you? I neglected you, I used you. That was easy, because you did everything for me. You even left your parents." He stopped for a minute and looked for a reaction. "Jungkook and I, we were sleeping with eachother for months. Months! You didn't even notice. How pathetic." My heart, my head, my body, everything hurt. Physical and mental. I couldn't say anything, I was speechless. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, my vision was blurry. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. "Why are you doing this? Why are you making me into a fool?" I cried, so hard and he didn't care. He never did. Man, that hurts. I continued "Are you joking? What am I to you?" He didn't know what to say or he just wasn't replying. I repeated the last sentence, "What?! What am I to you?" Again the same ice cold look in his eyes. He opened his mouth and all I wanted to hear was that he loved me and that he didn't mean it like this. But he said something. Something that I will always remember. Something that hurt me so much. He said that I was nothing for him, not anymore. He gave me my backpack and he- he just told me to leave. And I did that. I left. I didn't have anything. I didn't know where to go. And everything hurt. I keep saying that. Where do homeless people go? To the park. I wanted to order a taxi but I didn't have a phone or money. He took it. He took everything. Even my self-earned money. I helped him and this is what I got. I was trying to walk to the park. I alot of people were staring at me. That isn't really shocking: I looked ridiculous. There was dirt in my hair, maybe even blood. My eyes were red, almost purple. They were swollen from crying, and from the fight. My lips were chapped, dry and again, there was blood. I was hungry, but I didn't have food. And no money for food. Nothing actually. My clothes were ripped and dirty. I couldn't believe that I was actually homeless. I arrived at the park. Again the same disgusted looks. Wow, what even happened to humanity. I got no "are you okay". I sat down on one of the park benches. It was almost white of bird poo. Great. I opened my backpack. One of the things in my backpack was my notebook. I wrote everything down in this book: poems, stories, songs, whatever. I really wanted to be a rapper when I grow up. I wrote everything down. "My first heartbreak" My tears were falling on the little notebook. The ink was fading and it became an ink stain. I was sleepy, so I layed down and closed my eyes. It was cold, but I didn't care anymore." I wrote everything down and stared at him. Again. He touched me. Not physically, but emotionally. Yoongi looked at me and I looked at him. I was crying and he was crying. I shouldn't be crying, since I'm the therapist, but his story hit me so hard. He didn't deserve to be treated like that. I was afraid to open my mouth, I saw the anger and the sadness in his eyes. I couldn't stop describing his eyes, his beautiful almond-shaped, hazel eyes. Eyes as desperate as those of an animal caught in a trap. He looked scared. His eyes were like a book: you could read his emotions from it so easily. I licked my dry lips and opened my mouth "I'm sorry for crying, I should be helping you instead." I stopped for like 20 seconds and looked at him. He tried to look away, he tried to look strong. "There's one thing what I'm wondering. May I ask you?" He nodded, "Yeah ofcourse miss- oh so stupid. I don't even know your name! What is your name, lady?" I smiled. "I'm Claire." There was a little spark in his dark eyes. His eyes twinkled even brighter than the stars. It gave me a warm feeling. "Claire, such a beautiful name!" he complimented me, wow. I blushed. I tried to look serious "So the thing I wanted to ask you is- well, I'm just curious. Where do you live now?" It came out way ruder than I meant, he knew that. "I'm still homeless." He stared at the ground. I was confused "But- how are you here?" He didn't answer, he just sighed. After a couple of minutes he finally answered "I- I don't know." I didn't know what to say, he looked so vulnerable. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. He smelled nice, nice for a homeless. It was like we had never been apart really, as we embraced with such intensity. It felt save. We hugged for almost half an hour, saying nothing. Until my phone rang, it's my phone alarm. My shift was over. Wow, did we really talk for 3 hours? He pointed at my phone "Your phone is interrupting us" He laughed. "Yeah, my shift is over." I said. I saw his face grewing gloomy. It was the cutest thing ever to be honest. "Oh.." He said. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. "But, we can still talk. Just not here." I said. There was a little spark in his eyes "We can?!" I nodded my head "Let's go to a café!" He also nodded his head, smiling "That sounds like a good idea!" I grabbed my long, old, burberry jacket. My mom gave it to me for my 18th birthday. I he was still standing with his cute little smile. I grabbed him by the arm, "Follow me." I didn't take my bus on purpose, so we could talk when we were walking to the café. It was like 15 minutes walking, so it was not that long. When we finally arrived and claimed a table he stared at me. I ordered the drinks, vodka ofcourse. Everything is better with alcohol. He still stared at me, I smiled "What?" "Tell me more about you." Yoongi demanded, I smiled, not looking at him. "What do you want to know?" I answered. "Everything." So, I did that. I told him everything. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I talked on for what felt like hours. I looked at Yoongi directly, who had his eyes on me, his attention at me fully. He looked so interested, like he cared about me. It made my heart flutter. The moment got rudely interrupted by my phone ringing. "Boyfriend?" He asked, plopping himself in front of me and leaning back, making him look effortlessly sexy. I smiled "No, I don't have one." It was my dad. Shit. I forgot that I had a dinner with my parents. "Yoongi, my dad just called me. I gotta go." He grabbed my arm "Don't leave me, please." He looked at me. "I can't-" He interrupted me, "I don't want you to leave." There was a sadness in his eyes, but it also radiated an anger. "Yoongi, stop. I'm just your therapist." That hurt him, I saw it in his eyes. "Oh, okay..." He seemed disappointed, it was so cute to be honest. "We have an other appointment, for next Tuesday. On Tuesday we'll meet again, okay?" He sighed "Okay." I saw him looking at his feet. Was he being shy? How cute. Gosh, I should stop. He is gay, I should get over it. I gave him a tight hug and I told him goodbye. What an amazing human being.