Celebrity Therapist

First Session

I was already home when I got the call. Justin was on his way; he is going to be here in ten minutes. Slightly panicked, I put my food in the fridge and clean up my mess. It was still my home, but when someone comes over, I prefer it to be clean. I feel that it takes away from them really sharing if they see a mess. Maybe it's just me, I don't know.

I go to the spare bedroom and get out my folder on Justin from the safe. This is his first official session with me, so the file isn't very thick. There are a couple things I noted from looking him up on the internet. I guess that is a bonus with my job. With a simple internet search I could come up with a good guess of what could be bothering my client before they even come in. For Justin though, I wrote an entire list. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what is bothering him. I'll just have to let him talk.

There's a knock on the door. I walk back through the apartment and open it with a smile. There are two people standing there. One is Justin. He is wearing a sweatshirt and pants that I'm positive were not doing a very good job of what they are made for. The other is a larger guy, the one I met before. He is wearing a suit.

Justin walks in as I step to the side. He doesn't say anything and I watch as he sits down on the couch. I was going to direct him to the office, but he didn't turn my way and avoids my look.

"Good luck," the other guy whispers to me as he turns around and leaves.

I shut and lock the door before moving to the couch. I sit on the other end- just one cushion away- as it is the only piece of furniture to sit on in the living room. There is a TV mounted to the wall and a coffee table, but that is about it.

"So," I say, trying to figure out how to start. "I'm glad you decided to take my offer."

"I didn't," Justin says shortly, not looking at me. He slouches in the couch and slings an arm over the back.

"What do you mean?" Justin's eyes turn to me and he has a look on his face. I don't understand his reaction, so I remain quiet. I realize that my notes are still in the office. I need them. "Excuse me for just a minute," I say and get off the couch. "If you want to move this session into the other room, you can follow me. If not, I'll be right back."

I get up and notice that Justin doesn't move. I focus on the task at hand and grab the folder with his information. Looking over the notes, I understand his reaction now. His newest single is a song called 'What Do You Mean'. I almost apologize for the unintentional reference, but Justin says something first.

"I guess you think you have me all figured out already," Justin says, raising a hand to point at the folder open in my lap now.

"No, I don't," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "This is really just the forms your manager and lawyer filled out when we met. I don't have anything else in here."

Justin doesn't say anything right away. I am used to the silence though. I just wait. "It wasn't my choice to come here. I don't have anything to say." Justin finally speaks, moving to sit up a little straighter.

He is talking, I think to myself. That is a good sign. I nod in response.

"I'm good with sitting here for the next hour. I get paid either way."

It seems that we might end up sitting in silence for the remainder of the hour. I don't know if Justin is going to talk or not. I'm not sure how to get him to talk though. Sometimes my clients come here for advice or to rant about something or to just talk and have a good laugh. I can usually tell in the first couple minutes what they are here for, but Justin is different.
He seems completely closed off. I can tell there is something bothering him but he isn't talking and I don't know how to continue.

It's been ten minutes of complete silence.

Justin finally glances over at me and folds his hands together. "I don't understand what I am doing here," he says. "I don't need to talk to anyone. I'm fine."

I hear that all the time, but I can't help but think about how wrong he is. Even if I wasn't a therapist, I can see he needs help. Something is seriously bothering him. You can tell by the way he sits, like he has something physically weighing him down. It's in his eyes too. "I've come to learn that being fine is a far cry from being good," I say. "Being fine is worse than being bad."

"How long did it take you to memorize that?" Justin asks.

I can't help but roll my eyes. I am here to help him. He doesn't have to be rude to me. "Okay," I say, trying to regain my composure. "Let me ask you a question. If you were forced to be here, why do you think that is?"

Justin looks at me fully now. I know it is because of my tone of voice. I pride myself in staying calculated during my sessions, but Justin was the rudest guy I've spoken with. He's also the most unwilling to talk. Granted, I had a previous client that did not want to talk but her problems were far less than Justin's and we ended up talking through her problems in three sessions. 

It is going to take much longer than three sessions to help Justin, I'm sure.

"I hear it's because I'm acting out to get attention." Justin finishes that statement with a laugh. "Like I need any more attention," he mutters under his breath.

With that, I know I can get him to talk now. I just have to break down the walls he's built around himself.