Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Eighty-One

           

-Rye's POV-

            "It sounds as if you faced many of the things you've been fearing at the benefit concert," Dr. Stevens noted as I explained what had happened since my last visit with him. I nodded in response.

            "And how do you feel knowing that you made it out okay? That nothing bad happened?" I cleared my throat, still a little embarrassed to be doing the whole "talking about your feelings in therapy" shtick, but I had made the promise to myself to stop fighting it.

            "It made me want to put more of an effort into recovery," I said.

            "Would you like to go over the original list that I had you write down of all the things that you were avoiding so that you can reassess what you fear the most?"

            "Okay." He had explained during our first appointment that this wouldn't just be regular-old talk therapy – It was prolonged exposure therapy, which was a sort of treatment that was tailored specifically for people with post traumatic stress disorder. I was beginning to face the fact that I had it, that it wasn't merely a thing that soldiers got, that it was a part of me, but also that it wasn't something that I should be ashamed of.

            All of the boys had been more than eager to adapt to my new needs, and to talk about it whenever I needed to, but they didn't treat me as if I belonged in a hospital for the mentally ill. As Dr. Stevens would say, I wasn't crazy – This was my mind's way of trying to cope with what had happened. A shitty and undesirable way, yes, but nothing that I couldn't eventually work through.

            I was nothing if not determined, so I had the hope that, maybe, this wouldn't last forever. The fans and the public had also been exceptionally accepting since I had made the big reveal, which I was especially grateful for. The love that had been coming my way was more than I ever could've expected or dream of – So, truly, the only demons that I had left to conquer were not external at all, but internal.

            The biggest struggle that I was currently facing was trying to juggle helping myself with helping others – I still felt guilty, like I had some price to pay. I felt the need to save lives because I hadn't been able to do that at Slough Station, even though Liv insisted that I had saved hers. The problem was, everything was happening all at once – Brooklyn's breakup, Andy's mental struggles, Jack's loss, Liv's panic attacks...

            Dr. Stevens brought me back to the main goal we were trying to accomplish with my old list. Scrawled in my handwriting were the things that I was afraid of – Loud noises, big crowds, losing sight of my loved ones, the colour red, performing.

            "Is there anything that you feel more comfortable with now?" He asked.

            "Performing," I said. I had feared a repeat incident of what had happened at our first concert after the shooting, but instead, I felt like our rendition of Hallelujah had been one of the best performances of my lifetime. Once the nerves had subsided, I had felt so united with both the boys onstage with me and everyone in the crowd. It had brought me back to the belief that this was what I was meant to do with my life.

            "Are there any more opportunities for you to do that again any time soon?" He asked. I shook my head no.

            "Blair postponed our next tour until after Liv and Mikey get back from New York." I remembered how awkward that announcement had been – It might've been okay, maybe even expected, but he had initially said "Liv and Andy," which had caused Andy to gloomily correct him and sink even further into the shell that he'd receded into lately.

            "Okay. So, which fear would you like to work on facing next, then?" He asked.

            "Probably the colour red," I said. "Just because it feels like the most stupid out of all of them, and you never know where you'll find it."

            "It isn't stupid. Remember, we're trying to get out of that mindset, alright?"

            "Yeah, yeah, but-" He cut me off.

            "No but's. So, let's begin with talking about it – What is it about red that scares you?"

            "Well," I swallowed. "It reminds me of the blood, and the flashing lights. If I see it, then I think it's one of those things, and it brings me back to the moment."

            "See, there's a logical reason behind the fear that's understandable." He sat with his fingers bridged together, a look on his face telling me that he was taking mental notes as opposed to physical ones. He explained this to me earlier, telling me that he wanted to therapy to feel less like a doctor-patient interaction, and more like a conversation between friends. It certainly wasn't quite at that level yet, but I didn't hate him as much as I did that first time.

            "What do you think could help you conquer this fear?" He asked. I bit back the urge to say, "If I knew, then I wouldn't be here, would I?"

            Instead, I just said "I don't know."

            "Think about it," he pushed.

            "Maybe...Maybe I could focus on the object and realize it's not the thing that I was fearing, and that I'm actually in a safe situation?" I questioned.

            "That sounds like a great start!" He commended me. "See, I knew you had it somewhere within you." I gave him the slightest of smiles, but I was just beginning to get the feeling that, maybe, he was right – I wasn't trapped. As long as I worked towards it, there was a way out. And I was ready for the long journey that lay ahead of me.