therapeutic ; irwin

prologue

first therapy session

I clutch my wrist, keep my gaze intensely on the floor and take my first step into the small, simple room. My heart pounds as I take a seat on the dusty, old armchair.

"Your therapist will be here in a second, love," the receptionist shoots a phony smile my way and walks out of the door. I hated how she had to say 'therapist'. It made me feel like I needed help and I was weak. My mum insisted I needed help, though I was sure I was just fine without therapy. I didn't want to come here for a few reasons. First of all, it made me feel like there was something severely wrong with me. I felt like a crazy person; like I was clearly insane. Another reason I didn't want to be here was because I had to talk about my problems to a complete stranger. I had to say everything that was wrong with me, everything faulty thing I had done, confess all my flaws. I had tried to avoid human interaction since I had the 'incident' a month ago. I didn't need some random guy come and talk to me about all the things I'd done wrong these last few years.

A noise coming from outside the large door distracted me from my thoughts.

"Sorry, I'm late," the door opens to reveal a young, tall, caramel haired man with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He wore a plaid, buttoned up shirt and a pair of black jeans. His figure was tall and skinny. To be completely honest, he didn't look very professional. I was expecting some older man wearing a suit, with grey hair and a mustache. The man who was in front of me was not like that at all. He looked slightly older than me, but not by much.

"You must be Luna. I'm Charlie," he smiled and put out a hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and smiled weakly. He took the seat in front of me and took a sip of his coffee.

"Have you ever had therapy before?" Charlie asked me. I felt so timid.

"No. The only reason I'm here is because my mum made me come here. I'm not mental or anything," I blurted out. As soon as I said that, I regretted it straight away.
Charlie chuckled and stared at me.

"Don't worry. I didn't think you were mental," he grins at me. I had to admit that he was very good looking.

"Thanks," I say quietly, smiling slightly.

"I understand about you not wanting to come here. To be honest, I would fucking hate if my mum sent me to therapy too," his grin doesn't leave his face.

"Yeah, I don't think therapy is anyone's idea of fun," I giggle.

"I know. But I promise you, this won't be as bad as you think it will be. I'm here to help you and I won't judge you," he smiles a warm smile.

"I hope so," I murmur.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself," Charlie suggests. I was hoping he wouldn't ask me this.

"Umm... I had a hard childhood. I'm not great with people. I live with my mum only," I start. I can't help but fiddle with my fingers out of anxiousness and habit.

"That's a good start, but I want to know some things about what you like or hobbies," he stares at me.

"I like music. It's kind of my escape from everything, y'know? Like when I'm playing my guitar, the whole world around me disappears and reality seems unimportant for those few minutes," I say, staring down at my petite hands.

"Yeah, I understand. Music is sorta my therapy too," he shrugs.

"I tried telling my mum that all I needed to get better was my music, but she didn't believe it. She thought I needed to talk to someone about it, so that's why I'm here," I said shyly.

"I know therapy sounds super shitty and everything, but if I'm being completely honest, it will help, Luna. Talking to someone always helps," he shoots me a small, reassuring smile.

"I'm not great with talking about my feelings. I prefer writing them," I say honestly.

"Then why don't you write them? You don't even need to show me. I honestly think writing is easier than talking to someone about stuff," he suggests.

"I guess," my voice comes out timid, unsure of this idea.

"Whatever you're most comfortable with is fine with me. I'm here to help you, Luna and as I said before, I'm not judging you." His smile makes me sure that he was genuinely trying to help me.

"Thanks," I stare yet again at my twiddling fingers.

"You don't need to thank me. This is what I get paid for," he chuckles.

"Right," I chuckle in return.

"How about you tell me a little more about you?"

〜

The session soon ended and my mum came to pick me up.
My mum and I sat in silence for several minutes in the car before she decided to end the lack of noise.

"Have you changed your mind about therapy, Luna? Is it as bad as you thought?" She questioned.

"I still hate that you're sending me to it, because it makes me sound mental," I say, sinking my body lazily into the seat.

"You're not mental. I'm just doing it to help you. I'm just worried about you, sweetie," she says, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of her.

"I talked to your therapist briefly after the session and he suggested you do group therapy. He's doing therapy sessions with five other people and he said you weren't that comfortable with just talking to one person," she says.

"Group therapy? Than they're all gonna think I'm fucking crazy too!" I snap.

"Luna Faye! Do not use that language around me!" She raised her voice in anger.

"Sorry, but it's true. I don't want anyone else thinking I'm some sort of messed up, mental person," I stated.

"Luna, they're all going to be like you. They're all going to therapy probably because of the same thing as you are. Can you just trust me? I'm doing all this to make you better," she sighed.

I let out a heavy sigh of frustration and exhaustion.

"Fine. I'll go next week and see what it's like and if I actually like it, I'll do that instead," I through my arms up in the air in defeat.

"Thank you, Luna. Just remember I'm making you do this because I love you and I'm just scared," my mum quickly turned her head and kissed me on my cheek.

"I know, mum," I sigh, looking out of my window.

--

(A/N)
Ashton, Calum and Michael are in the next chapter. Luke will be in soon