[Glimpse] The Problem With Perspective

The mug was a novelty unicorn this time, with a chipped horn. The bottom proclaimed nothing is impossible! between the stars and rainbows, and he found some ironic humour with that. The deep magenta of the blueberry tea had spilled over the edge and he rubbed the stain with his thumb as he mulled the question.

"Well I thought we were serious, so that was what I was supposed to do, I guess?"

"Were you bothered that she didn't want to go?"

"A little," he admitted. Serena had waffled on saying no for a while, and he had a hard time letting go of feeling like she dangled hope for a little too long. "But I get that, like, it was a lot to ask. And it came out of nowhere," he explained. "It's also really not her scene, but she also keeps asking me to push her to socialize more. Which is why I offered in the first place." He shifted a bit, feeling a little guilty that he wasn't that excited to talk about his girlfriend. She hadn't done anything wrong, and was quite the opposite of his source of stress. The fact that their disagreements were so mundane was a blessing at this point. "She started university a little later than me and neither of us have done anything long term before. We're not really expecting to be super perfect twenty-four-seven. That she didn't want to hop to New York after three months to hang out with a bunch of strangers and party isn't high on shots to my ego." It was impulsive; maybe he was a little clingy.

"Sure, we can move on," Dr. Said agreed smoothly, "What made you want to spend Christmas in New York, rather than here with Abigail?" Anthony scratched under his eye,

"Give her some space. We both did this awkward song and dance at the start of the semester and-" he bit his tongue, needing a beat as the counselor had to nudge him again. "I didn't want to be around her girlfriend? Or have her drop a big party when she was just getting her confidence back?" 

"What would be wrong with her deciding not to go to one of her parties, in favour of spending time with you?"

"Um..." he thought on it, feeling the familiar wave of nausea. "I don't know? I feel guilty, I guess. Or, maybe I was scared she would leave and that would say something, or if she skipped out on having fun that would also say something..." Anthony ran his fingers over the texture of the mug, blinking, "She's got this look where she's proud of herself for making the 'right choice' but it's like she's sad at the same time. She gets all," he mimed preening his hair, looking off dramatically out the window and imagining her eyes misting, "Aren't I a great mom for choosing my son over my happiness? But she's fucking twenty six. So." He bites his tongue again, shrugging.

Said smiles mildly at the impression, simply nodding and familiar with how Anthony perceived the woman's quirks with his hypervigilance.

"You don't think she enjoys spending time with you?"

"Oh, uh," Anthony realigned his thinking for a moment, "No, she does. I'm just...yeah you're right I'm just assuming the worst again," he laughs nervously.

"What happened in New York? Are you ready to get into it today?" Said prompted with a firm, encouraging verbal jab. They were both silently aware that he had cancelled his last two appointments with various reasonable excuses. He noted the student start tucking his legs and sitting deeper into the couch as if he hoped to disappear. There was a soft, ticking sound as he drummed his fingers against the pink and white glass. Anthony shrugs again, rolling his neck against the bunching of his hoody to ground himself.

"It was a lot. I mean, I've partied before but I guess everything felt older all of the sudden than a bunch of dumb high schoolers. Some of my friends hooked us up with some other groups and we were at someone's penthouse instead of the hotel we booked. I'm pretty sure at some point someone had invited hookers? Not that- I dunno, I was stoned and drunk and I wasn't really stoked on people passing out and hooking up. We did this whole thing at the start of the semester about consent and it was like no one took it seriously or gave a shit. Oh! Right! Then when I realized my friends had bailed I get this fucking call from the hospital in Vegas!" He narrated, the flood of the second worst day in his life finding a voice. 

"Thank fucking God for Wendy. She walked me through booking the red eye flight when I was too drunk and freaked out to sit up straight," Anthony snapped, "But I'm rich, right? Now that Arthur got his ass killed on a fucking flight accident? What are the fucking chances? Apparently high enough where I barely kept it together stuck on that thought getting my sorry ass back home!"

The tea spilt a bit as he gestured helplessly, angry laughter bubbling from his throat again. "Right, so, like, I get to ICU, coming down from everything and glad I didn't get kicked off the flight. And they explain- they explain she was in Whitney, in some dudes shitty bedroom ODing on enough drugs to kill a horse a dozen times over! They didn't know if it was a suicide attempt!" He didn't go over the fact that he had numerated on the police officer saying way too much, obviously trying to get a reaction from him to mine for more information on potential trafficking activity.

"The guy was gone. I-" he blinked a few times, Said offering a break before Anthony cut him off with finding his voice again. "And Evelyn was there, so I guess she's the emergency contact?" he said, his voice cracking a bit. "Anyway, she does what she usually does and is so fucking awkward about the fact that I exist and make her relationship less convenient. I ignore her small talk and she just keeps prodding, like this is the time to make up for the fact that she avoided me for over a year. She even had the gall to ask me where I was at the time." He teared up, swallowing his frustration, "And then, Abigail wakes up, and Evelyn's all over her like she has any business- And keeps reassuring her 'Ooh everything's fine! Lets move on from this fucked up situation because Evelyn can't be fucking fun for five goddamn minutes!'" 

He put down the mug, careful not to slam it as his shaking hands protested the calm. "I explain what the real situation is, and she tries to offer a personal doctor so Abigail doesn't stay in the hospital? Like are you fucking- can she- can she not just sit in the shit she caused to herself for a bit? You know?" he wiped the heel of his palm across his eyes, coughing into the crook of his elbow. "Everything's fine! Shut up Anthony, you don't get it! The drugs and orgies are normal and Abigail's low key alcoholism is just her vibing! There's no pattern, we're all friends and will keep each other safe from the cops!" 

"Okay, Tony," the doctor soothed as the young adult put his head in his hands. "Just take a minute." He led his client through some breathing so the kid didn't work himself into another panic attack, redirecting him to make a new batch of tea even though his mug was mostly full, just to get him moving and putting his energy elsewhere for the moment. "That was a horrible experience to go through. It wasn't your job to be the adult in the room." Anthony chuckled dryly, flashing teeth like a cornered animal.

"I told Evelyn off. Abigail told me she- that she was part of the family. She sided with her, then ignored everything I said and started doctor shopping with her girlfriend. While assuring me Evelyn would never take precedent over me," he laughed again. "Then explained she knows her more than I do, and she will tell me all these secrets later? Like I just needed to let this all go, so she can tell me her super special thing that would make it all better? Whatever that meant at the time...?"

"At the time?"

Anthony stared off, leaning against the wall. He wasn't sure how to spin that the woman then proceeded to invite a stranger into their house, reveal she was supernatural, and then offer for him to drink alcohol with her.