Happy Pills | Falsettos DISCONTINUED

.xvi.

Two weeks following the appointment with Mendel, Charlotte had booked me an appointment with her to check in on me and see how the pills had been working. She claimed it only takes a week for the pills to begin working, but I don't believe that for a second. I don't feel any better. If anything, I feel worse.

I sat anxiously on the black table with white paper covering it as I waited for her to come in. It's weird that I feel so anxious about this. I mean, the woman is one of my best friends, but as soon as she puts on that stethoscope and white jacket, my heartbeat goes through the roof. I scanned the odd, indescribable painting that sat on the wall adjacent to me as I heard the door squeak open.
My head shot to where Charlotte stood, finishing some kind of note.
She smiled when she saw me. "Hey, Marv. How are you?"
I shrugged, watching my feet kick back and forth.
"Marvin?" She asked, taking a step towards me.
I looked up at her to see a concerned expression resting on her face. I flashed a quick, forced smile.
Charlotte exhaled before sitting behind the desk pressed sideways against the wall across from me, in front of the wall adjacent to me. "So, how do you think the medicine is working for you?"
"I think it's too early to tell."
She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I've told you multiple times it only takes a week for the effects to show. It's been a month."
"Well, it's too early for me to tell you, conclusively, then."
"How do you think it's been working then?"
"Honestly? I feel worse."
She nodded, scribbling something. "How so?"
"More depressed, more suicidal. Y'know, the usual stuff with me."
"And how have the appointments with Mendel been going?"
"Eh. They're kinda hit and miss, but he seems to be taking it more seriously than our appointments before all this, which kinda makes him seem like he's good at his job and actually knows what he's doing. It's weird."
She laughed softly. "Hit and miss, how?"
"He sometimes says things that don't seem to help, but other times he gives me incredible advice or analyses something in a way I never expected or gives me some weird activity to do that actually end up helping."
She nodded, scribbling more. "I'm glad he seems to be helping."
I nodded, softly mumbling, "Me too,"
Honestly, I never expected Mendel to be good at this. I was totally expecting to have to change therapists, but I'm glad I didn't. The man finally seems to know what he's doing.
"I'm gonna book you an appointment two months from now so we can touch on all this again. If the feelings of worsened depression and suicidal thoughts haven't gone away, we'll change your prescription."
I nodded. "Thanks, Char."
She nodded as I walked out of the room.

Whizzer stood from his chair where he'd been patiently killing time in the waiting room. He smiled at me, which I attempted, and failed, to return. 
"That bad, huh?" He asked, taking my arm in his as he lead me out of the doctor's office. 
"Probably not as bad as I'm making it out to be in my head, but you know how I am for overthinking." I responded, a sour laugh escaping as I spoke.
"Can I make a suggestion?"
I nodded.
"Without you getting mad at me?"
Rolling my eyes, I nodded again.
"Maybe you should try to focus on the positive instead of fixating on the negative... I've heard that's supposed to be helpful,"
I didn't respond right away, trying to think of a single positive thing that had happened in the last three days so I could have something to cling onto.
"Never mind, it was a stupid thought--"
"No, no, it's not. I'll try it."
He smiled at me and I caught his eyes, seeing there was none of the anger or pissy-ness that usually filled them; what was usually there was replaced by nothing but pure love and affection. Seeing this total change of character, I genuinely smiled in return before placing a gentle peck on his lips. 

Back at the apartment, I made a dash for the couch, wanting nothing more than to laze around; I felt as though I barely had enough energy to get there, let alone stand long enough to do the household chores. Whizzer seemed to understand this and let me relax as he pressed play on the answering machine and went to the kitchen to start our lunch. 
A few meaningless messages played, including one from my boss wishing me a speedy recovery. I only rolled my eyes at this; it's not like he really cares, he just wants me back 'cause he knows I'm the only one that really knows what I'm doing and he'd rather have me there than train someone else, the lazy bastard...
My thoughts of hatred towards my boss were cut short when Jason's voice came over the speaker. It wasn't a super important message, but it was nice to hear his voice again. He's barely spoken to me since that day I took him for ice cream... So to hear his voice alone was nice, but it was especially nice to hear him say he wanted to spend some time at my place. 

Whizzer came back into the room upon hearing Jason ask this with a raised eyebrow, asking me the question without actually saying anything. I responded by picking up the phone.