flower boy 2 - b. urie

vi - brendon

"okay, brendon, i'm going to need you to try and make a fist for me." my hand is lying flat in the therapist's hand, and it's still bruised and it hurts, but it's starting to really heal. in my opinion, the brace that they gave me doesn't help very much.

   "yeah..." i say, mostly to myself, and try my best to make my hand into a fist. i can't even get halfway there, and it makes me angry. she can tell, too.

   "now, don't get angry. this is all a work in progress, bud." bud. i fucking hate that. i grunt a response, and she just shakes her head.

   she's a middle aged woman, probably the same age as aunt cece. she's got long, brunette hair that's tied into a bun on top of her head. it's no secret that she's fit and her body is slim. anyone can see that, even if she is forced to wear this scrub shirt that's bulky and these black slacks. sometimes she wears leggings and a soft sweater, but that's usually on fridays. apparently they call that 'casual friday'.

   her name is leanne, and she's nice enough. if i do a 'good job' in therapy, she normally gives me a gift certificate for any of our various fast food places around town. i get them on fridays.

   "i can't fucking do it." i growl, staring at my hand in anger. pain shoots through the bones that i've been working so hard to repair. i'm not a very patient person, as leanne, and everyone else around me, has quickly learned.

   "now, what kind of attitude is that?" i don't reply. leanne sighs.

   "that's enough for today, alright? i'll give them a positive report, although, you could've done better." she grabs her clipboard off of the desk in the corner, scribbling away on it. i roll my eyes, and when she notices, she smirks.

   "thanks, leanne." i give a sarcastic smile. she laughs at that. it kind of sounds like gianna's. i hop off of the stool that i'd been sitting on for the last half hour, and make my way to the door of the therapy room. room 313.

   "i'll see you on wednesday, brendon." she calls as i'm walking out the door. i put my non damaged hand up in response, carefully wrapping the other one in its brace. i hate this thing, but i'm only allowed to take it off during showers, or if it's really causing me pain. cece and gianna always make sure i'm wearing it, and if i'm not, i get a lecture. it's nice that they care about me so much.

   i care about them too.