delicate. / timothée chalamet au

nine.

i push open the doors to the morning meeting, about 15 minutes late but at least i'm in attendance.

i quietly close the door behind me and walk over to the front desk to sign in.

"you're late, rose." the receptionist pam says to me.

"yes thank you pam, i am aware of this." i say dropping the pen and walking into the meeting. i don't mean to be a complete bitch to pam, she's not a bad person. it's just there's something about her... that i just don't like. maybe it has to do with her voice... it's unbelievably squeaky.

i tiptoe to the first open seat i can find. as i sit and place my bag on my lap, i hear tims voice.

"and after having gone through that, i just spirailed i guess."

his voice is slightly strained, hair covering most of his face, his head remains low, and his eyes never looking at anything but his own hands.

"i guess i somewhat blamed myself, and the only way to ease the guilt i felt was by drinking. and i didn't even realize, like i didn't know i was becoming-- i just didn't know how to stop myself."

damien clears his throat when he senses tim becoming uncomfortable.

"so, when did you decide enough was enough?"

tim quietly laughs.

"i didn't have much of choice in the matter. seeing how my drinking affected my dad and-- my mom-- um... i just knew i couldn't do that to her-- them." tim starts to uncomfortably shift in his seat at the mention of his mom.

"and, how has it been, the sobriety?"

"um- i mean i'm not going to lie, i've had a couple of setbacks-"

i flinch, thinking back to the night i first met him.

tim continues.

"but i've been trying to distract myself. and i mean it's worked for the most part, like i could play video games for days on end, and read, and watch movies, but the sadness is somehow always-- i don't know, lingering in me?"

"hmm, how so?"

"like i've been so good the last couple weeks since i'd last relapsed, i haven't had strong urges to drink, or to uh-- cut."

i uncomfortably shuffle in my seat as the words leave his mouth. my eyes flick down to his arms for a second, remembering what he had shown me the other night.

"and i've actually been-- i guess happy? i mean for the most part. cause video games are great-- food is great, books and movies are great-- but i-- i guess i just need more."

"more what?" damien asks.

"distractions i guess. something to give me an escape." tim sighs.

"...from?"

"from the guilt, the boredom, the sadness-- but i guess i'm always a little sad."

"is there someone in your life that you could ask? someone to help you when you're feeling low?"

"um---i-- i lost contact with most of my friends when they went off to college, and i try not to bother my parents too much-- cause they've been through enough... but i recently met someone,"

my eyes haven't left his face since the moment i heard him first speak. i see his demeanor change as he begins to talk about this someone.

"and she's-- she's been a really nice person to just-- be around. i-- i guess i've forgotten what it's like to be around someone whos just-- good."