Apple Hair

Chapter 37 - CORRIN🐈

Merlin Kim caves, no choice but to give us a shot. A final evaluation—he promises us that. Yes! I want to jump on the roof and shout at the top of my lungs. I want to throw a rubber ball at Leo's face and watch him attempt to dodge. 

We don't know what the final evaluation will look like, but it can't be much harder than what we just did. (An epic UH Manoa performance will go down in the books, I know that for sure).

One Thursday night, the day after David's birthday (we got red velvet cake), I find word about a new hire in AWE. Not just any new hire, but a counselor. Before I got sick, this news wouldn't even register. I'd probably ignore it and go about my day. But now that I see a psychiatrist, this kind of excites me in a weird way.

"Hey guys," I say. "Let's see the new counselor together. I booked us a session, like a family therapy type of thing. It's at midnight!"

"And why is a counselor seeing people at midnight?" says Kaden.

"I don't know..." I say. "I didn't question it."

"I guess we can go," Van says, without the telltale strain in his voice we learned to ignore for so long. I guess we shattered the ghost slash lion thing? I haven't seen Leo in ages, but I know he probably will make an appearance soon, popping up out of nowhere.

"Let's go," David says. Nineteen looks pretty good on him. I can't get his smiling face out of my head, when we sang him happy birthday in the dorm.

There were bags under our eyes then. Just like now. But I'm hardly tired when thinking about a good therapy session with the guys.

"Glad you think of us as family, dude," Seiya says, putting his arm around me. He smells after our practice, but I don't really mind that much.

We head a few floors up, to a nondescript room in the corner. When we open it, I find complete darkness. So dark that the light from the hall doesn't even pierce it.

No windows or anything. I mutter to myself, "Maybe we got the wrong place...."

"No, this is the right place."

I freeze. The person within sounds just like... Leo Pak. If Leo Pak could speak English. I turn around in confusion and a bit of fear—they freeze like statues as well.

"Come in," the person says.

I share a nod with the members, knowing we wanted to confront Leo, the five of us finally settling the ripped page. I lead the guys inside, and Van closes the door behind us. My eyes don't adjust. Still, I see absolutely nothing.

"There's a couch if you turn right and go to the back of the wall," the person says.

I obey, still testing that voice. It can't be Leo—I think this person might be an extension of him, or maybe his brother? I can't be sure, so I ask, "Who are you? What's your name?"

"That doesn't matter," the counselor says. "We're here for a session for the five of you, are we not? I can't hardly waste your time by talking about myself."

"Okay...." And because it was my big idea to go to therapy together, I add, "We'd like to start, then."

"Tell me what you're going through," he says.

I clear my throat, trying to figure out if it's David or Van who rustles beside me. "Well earlier, at the beginning of our formation, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. And that's been really hard. Not just for me, but for everyone. I felt like I was holding us down sometimes. Okay, maybe not sometimes. All the time."

"That can be difficult," says the voice. I realize there's no change in the air, no crossing of his leg or arms. "Living with a chronic illness while trying to chase a debut as a pop star."