You Can't Pass As A Boy

A sad ending

"Would you like to talk about it?" the psychologist asked gently, pouring the man in front of her a cup of boiling tea. She was about fourty, American, and wore a necklace of shiny red beads.

Henry focused on that. His hand was shaking slightly, his eyes tired, but he managed to take the mug without spilling any. He pretended to drink. He didn't want anything.

He didn't want to talk about her.

"Henry." The psychologist, Linzy Woods, was a persistent person. Henry had discovered this the first few times he'd visited her.

His gaze slid from the beads around her neck to the window. The harbour lay outside, bustling with sounds they couldn't hear. There was a fish and chip shop only a few metres from them, but no smells reached him.

The room, in general, was nice. Light wood surfaces, blue armchairs, even a bright red teapot sitting on the tidy desk.

Henry took a shuddering breath. He could just get up and smash it. It would be easy.

What was the point? His muscles, which he hadn't even noticed he'd tensed, relaxed.

"Would you like to tell me how you feel?" Linzy asked.

Henry put the still-full cup on the arm of the chair. He nodded, looking at a spot on the floor. "Hopeless."

"Why?"

"Useless. Can't do anyth--" Henry hung his head, willing his eyes to stay dry.

Linzy sat, respectfully silent, for a minute before moving on. "How many meals do you eat a day?"

"Not...many."

"And how many pieces of fruit and veg?"

"Some?"

"How have you slept this week?"

In the past weeks, Henry hadn't slept. Finally, exhausted, he fell onto his bed the moment he entered his room, and no longer required pills. Somehow, though, he was still tired. Maybe it was just the dreams...

"Very well."

"And," Linzy seemed hesitant, "how are the rest of D.O.T?"

Henry half-cringed at their name. He crossed one leg over the other numbly as he searched for the words to describe the hole left in the group.

"They're...okay."

Linzy knew all about how each of them was coping, but she didn't tell Henry this.

"Key is making me eat," Henry offered. "Jongdae is being too...cheerful. Onew tells me things."

"What things?"

"I can't remember." It was always about how they were doing in the charts, or that he was going to buy food, or asking Henry if he wanted to go somewhere.

"Did he tell you what the doctors are going to do?"

Henry blanched. His gaze dropped to his hands suddenly. "What if it doesn't work?"