Chapter Text
"What do you think?" she leans on, her elbows on the desk, getting closer to my face. 'Girl, I need some space.'
"Hmm?" I look at her in the eyes, trying to hide-without success- that I hadn't been listening for the last hour.
"Are you even listening to me?" whines while seating in her chair, a tired expression growing in her face. I feel sorry for her, she tries too hard and I can't even pay attention for more than 5 minutes.
"Yeah, sorry, um..." I scratch my forehead, struggling to focus on what she is saying.
"Okay, I'll just, just repeat everything" she sighes, stroking her hair smoothly. I've noticed that it is something she does a lot, probably trying to calm herself. "It's a new technique we are trying. You get to talk with someone with similar likes as you, but without seeing their face, preventing from judging by their image, okay? We've searched for some options, and you'll choose which one you'll talk to for the next month, okay? After that, you will be able to see each other and decide if you want to keep talking, but that would be outside the clinic."
I nod slowly, wondering why did I ever accept to participate in such a stupid experiment. One of my main problems is how awkward I am with new people. How am I supposed to talk with someone with social anxiety too without even looking at them? "Sounds fun" I deadpan.
"Awesome!" I hate when people fake excitement. I know you're tired, you know I'm tired, let's not pretend otherwise. "Here you have some of the people we thought you would like each other."
'How are they going to like me if i don't even like myself?'
"Okay" I take the peach pink folder and open it slowly, afraid of what I'm going to find.
Haneul
Age: 27
Likes: jazz music, comics, anime.
Dislikes: american people, slowly people, yellow stuff.
'What the hell? This dude is weird as fuck, why would they give him as a choice? Oh yeah, 'cause I'm weird as fuck too. Okay, let's move on.'
Hye:
Age: 19
Likes: anime 'again?' , poems, drawing.
Dislikes: prejudices, long books, make-up.
'Books are my passion, get the fuck out, girl.'
A.D.:'what kind of name is A.D.?'
Age: 24.
Likes: rapping, composing, photography.
Dislikes: people in general 'same dude'.
I'm probably making some weird faces because she starts laughing softly. I rise my gaze to her surprised.
"What?" I ask rudely.
"They are all really nice and interesting people, Emma. You should give them an opportunity."
I roll my eyes and sigh, leaving the folder on the desk. "Do I get to choose now?"
"Yes" she takes a white paper from a drawer I didn't notice until now. "Just fill in those gaps and we'll give it to the person you choose."
"What if they don't want to be my partner?"
She smiles 'nicely' and touches my arm, I guess to calm me down, which doesn't work at all. "I'm sure they will."
"But what if they don't?" 'She doesn't remember how insecure this things make me feel or what?'
"Then, you'll choose another one" she forcedly smiles. 'I know, I'm so tiring. I'm sorry.'
"Okay. Give me the paper then"
Name: Emma.
Age: 21.
Likes: reading & writing, music, sleeping.
Dislikes: loud, gossip and/or stupid people.
I give her my info with a fake smile and tired eyes.
"Good. Your choice, then?"
"A.D." I say slowly. Do I really want him? I don't really like the others so I guess he's my only option.
"Nice! I'm sure he'll like you. Come here on Wednesday, I'll have an answer by then."
I nod and stand up indolently. I take my black bag, hanging off the chair, and get out of the white room. I was starting to feel dizzy, so I'm relieved I'm finally out.
My house is as empty as always, well actually even more, since my dog Roxy is at the vet until Friday. So I enter through the door, change my clothes and stare blankly at the ceiling of my bedroom while listening to music. I actually don't know how much time I spent like that, the only thing I remember is wiping out my tears falling on my cheeks and trying to shut up so I could listen to the songs. And then dark, so I guess I fell asleep.
The next morning I wake up with my stomach grumbling, probably because yesterday I didn't eat any dinner at all. My face is sticky and my eyes are so swollen I can't even open them enough to avoid hitting my foot against my drawer.
"Oh, fuck. Fuck, God damn it."
The phone rings, so I have to postpone my self-pity and walk downstairs to the kitchen. The main reason I "run" to answer it -considering I usually walk with the speed of a zombie, walking fast is like a race for me- is because I freaking hate so much that sound, and it doesn't help at all the headache that I woke up with.
"Yeah?" my voice sounds horribly hoarse, I even scare myself.
"Were you sleeping? Emma, it's 2 in the afternoon, didn't I-"
I clear my throat, only to feel pain and desist "I was fully awake. What do you want, dad?"
"I just wanted to know how is my daughter. Do I need a reason to call you?" I rise my right eyebrow and yawn, waiting for him to continue. Because he never calls, just when he needs something. Like everyone, I guess. "Okay, I need to ask you something too. Do you know where did your mother used to leave all the receipts? You know, for cooking and that stuff."
I struggle to swallow as the phone stars to feel sweaty. How can he talk about her like if she was just one of his cases, like if she was still here? 'Third drawer, starting from the left, the green one, not the blue' "No" I mutter, and then I hang up. I don't have any particular reasons to why I lied to him, I just did. And I don't feel bad at all. Fuck off.
I spend the rest of the day trying to forget my dad's call, writing on my computer. But all I can see are empty, soulless words. Just like me. I still don't get how I could write a 300 page novel without any sign of depression or darkness and actually sell some copies. I guess my mom helped in the process, but she's not here, and I can't feel any more lonely.
'Fuck, he won't like me. Probably I'll have to choose another one. What am I even doing here?' These thoughts are haunting my head, making me nervous and dizzy. My hands are cold and sweaty, and my lip is about to break with all my biting. Today is Wednesday, and so that means that today I'm meeting that A.D. guy -I'm still thinking how someone could have a name like that, but whatever- and I'm anxious as fuck. I enter into the clinic, thinking on running away and never coming back. I look at my watch "18:20" 'Fuck, I'm so late'.
"Emma! We were waiting for you." shouts a voice behind me.
"We?" I reply shocked as I turn around. 'Did he say yes?'
"Yes! A.D. and me. He said you would be an interesting person to meet."
'Interesting my ass. I'm the most boring person on earth.'
She guides me to the room I entered the other day. Before entering, she gives me some advice, like "try not to use sarcasm, even though you seem to like it so much". I start to bite my nails as I pass through the door. There is a translucent screen, cutting in half the white table of the room. I sit in the chair in front of me, white too. Even though the main purpose of all this is to not know how the person looks like, I can see the silhouette of a blonde guy, black clothes and pale skin. I wonder how much he is able to see. I take a look at the white walls again, trying to relax.
'Gosh, this people are even more boring than me with their decoration'
"Maybe they like white." says a raspy voice from the other side of the table.
"W-what?" I answer as I realise I said that aloud. 'Haha, cool, I can't even control my thoughts'. "Ah, yeah, maybe" I mutter and try to laugh, which makes it even more awkward because I fail. "I'm Emma, by the way."
"I know."
'Awkward, awkward, awkward.'
"So, um..." I say, trying to start a conversation, which I must say I'm horrible at "why are you here?"
"To talk?" I hear with a snort.
"Yeah, of course" my answer is as short as his. What the hell are we going to do 3 hours a week if we can't have a appropriate conversation?
"You like music, right?" I ask at the same time I hear a "Where are you from?"
"Oh, I'm sorry" I chuckle and clear my throat "I was born in London, but came here when I was 5."
"That explains the weird name."
'Excuse me?'
"Well yours isn't that common either." I say, clearly annoyed.
"Because that's not my real name"
'Lol?'
"And can I ask which one is it?" I ask insecure, 'am I going too far?'
"No." 'Yep, too far' "I mean, I prefer not to tell you. People kind of...don't react really good when they hear my name"
I nod and a smirk appears in my face, even though he can't see me. "I bet it isn't that bad."
"That's what I think" did I hear a laugh? "And yeah, I do love music. I'm a rapper."
"Oh, wow, that's cool. I love music too. And I'm a writer."
'He doesn't care, shut up'
"Writer? I like it. Are you into rap?"
"Yeah. Actually, my favourite singer is a rapper, too."
"Who is it?"
I suddenly froze for a second. Is he going to laugh? Most people do. I'm so scared, damn.
"Um, well y-you probably won't know him."
'Gosh, stop stuttering you idiot'
"He's Min Yoongi, but his rapper name is Suga." and after saying this, silence.
'Fuck, I knew it. He's going to laugh, he'll leave, damn why did I start talking?'
"Isn't he the guy from BTS?" He suddenly answers. My eyes open wide, does he know him?
"Yeah! Him. Do you like them?" I start to feel excited. Maybe we can have an appropriate conversation after all.
"They're not bad. I prefer hip hop, though. Have you published any books yet?"
"Um...yeah, actually I published a book a year ago."
"Oh, good. Which one is it?"
"I prefer no to tell you. It's...it's not good" I don't know why, but he makes me so nervous. Maybe it's his raspy, mysterious voice, or the fact that he actually seems to have any interest in my life.
"It was published, how come it is not good? I bet it isn't that bad" this time we both laugh, and my heart beats faster for a few seconds.
"I don't know, I would like to keep it to myself. At least, until we talk a bit more."
"It's okay. I guess we both can have our little secrets, right?"
"Yeah, we can" I nod, smiling.
"And why do you like Suga?" He asks after some seconds of absolute silence.
"He's awesome. The best rapper I've ever listen to." I laugh at myself. "I'm sure you've listen to more rap and hip hop than me, but I don't know, I really like him and appreciate him. And I even identify with him sometimes. I probably sound a bit ridiculous."
"Not at all. It's good to have something like that."
I am about to ask another question, when the door opens, revealing a familiar face.
"Emma, A.D., time's up."
"Oh..." I can't help but notice he's at least a little disappointed, and honestly so am I.
"Well, goodbye then. See you on Friday"
"Yeah. Goodbye" he says while I'm leaving, and a smile spreads on my face. I think this is the first time I leave this place not being totally sad.