𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ★ VELVET & VENEER

chapter twenty

chapter twenty

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     "Good morning, Ritz. How are we doing? It's been awhile since our last session. Amost had to send someone over to check on you, haha."

With each tick of the grandfather clock's pendulum, Ritz grows increasingly more restless. The man sitting before him and his astute gaze doesn't help in the slightest, neither does the room, as cold as it feels. Dull walls, the air stiff; leather couch uncomfortable and awkward to shift in. Even their unpleasant seating, where they're placed on opposing sides. There's something about the psychiatrist's office that makes Ritz feel small. It makes him feel as if he's done something bad. Ritz has not done something bad.

They make this space feel attuned to you, that what you say can be mended and controlled; that when you step in the room, you're special and heard. But really, people just like him come and go. People like him leave this same room with what they always do; nothing changed, and a document that suggests you pop a couple pills and call it a night.

It's nothing compared to when he's with you.

"Morning." Ritz shifts in his firm chair, "Yeah, I, um— I'm doing fine. Sorry, work's been busy."

"Good." Dr. Beckett smiles, lips tight. He opens a small, black notebook, "Does he still speak much to you, these days? More so than since we last spoke?"

"Yes. It's... almost impossible to ignore him, now."

"Is that so? Would you like to share?"

"Well, I met somebody. He likes them just as much as I do."

"I see." Dr. Beckett nods thoughtfully, "And how do you believe this affection triggers him? How is it that he's impossible to ignore? If I recall correctly, he's never overcome your thoughts drastically before."

"I don't— I don't know." The leather sofa creaks beneath his movement, "But he's never been able to... take over before."

"Take over?"

"He started a fight with... somebody, over this person. The voice and I, we both just had this— this overwhelming urge. I blinked and the fight was over."

Dr. Beckett scribbles something down for a moment, before glancing up, "And this person, the one you're interested in, have you explained anything to them?"

"No! No, I can't do that. I mean, I tried... I said I wasn't myself. And I— I wasn't lying. That wasn't me." Ritz defends himself, "I would never hurt somebody like that. I've never even resorted to violence before! My record's clean!"

"Yes, I know that."

"Okay." Ritz breathes, "I just need something stronger. Something that won't let him... come through, as easily."

"It's not that simple, unfortunately. If the antipsychotic medication prescribed last session isn't helping, I'm afraid there's not much more I can do. There's no pharmaceutical treatment for the circumstances you're currently facing. I'd recommend speaking with your therapist for alternatives. They'll certainly have ways you can manage that."

Ritz drags a hand over his face, exasperated. Useless, is what he'd like to scream. Ritz would've ditched these sessions ages ago, should they not find him and throw him in a ward.