"Hello there! This is the Red Hotline. How can we be of service today?" A jovial British voice buzzed from the other line, Tom just can feel the annoying liveliness from this bloke.
The joy in his voice was sickening; forced. Tom didn't like someone who's fake happy all the time. Someone who would pretend to be so happy. Tom wanted someone genuine. Like Matt, who would show a smile when he meant it. Laugh when he found it humorous. That was the type of person he would want to hang around. Not some fake prick.
Tom coughed. "Uh... I was told to call you. I was heard you can help my friends and me?" Tom lost his train of thought for a second. How do you contemplate a conversation with an annoying bloke again?
The man laughed. "Of course! I will sign you and your friends up right this second! Anyways, do you mind tell me your situation?" Ugh, the 'optimism' from this man makes Tom want to puke.
"Mental issues such as depression and anxiety."
"What are your friends' names? And do you mind telling me yours?"
"Matt, Edd, and my name is Tom. And gee..." Tom used the iciest and coldest tone he found within the depths of himself, illustrating that he is not tolerating the 'optimistic' crap. "We told you our names. Mind to tell us yours?"
The dude seemed to get the message, suggesting from the long pause in the middle of the conversation, and when he began to speak again, his voice was monotonous. "William." More silence. All of it just... empty.
Tom began to sweat. "Ok... is there anything else?" The tension in the air became thicker.
"Your first appointment will be on Wednesday at 16:00pm, and each week will be the same schedule. You will have to pay £50 per session. Is that ok?" Willam said blankly. God, if a knife would be able to cut the tension, it'll have to be really sharp.
Matt and Edd gave a tiny grin at Tom, who are now standing beside him, giving him a hug. It was as if it was their way to say 'thank you.' And it probably was. "Yeah," Tom complied with a shrug, "thank you."
He received a sigh from the other line. Perhaps the man was tired. "It is my pleasure..." a bit of a fraction of that leftover 'optimism' slipped through William's voice, seeming like he's been used to it for so long that it's a habit. Tom could hear the man smile.
"I'm rooting for you."
YOU ARE READING
Porcelain Face | HIATUS |
FanfictionI felt happiness when I was with them. I lost all hope when I left. I relied on my cold, sinful, and emotionless heart for support. I had no one else to turn to but the one I didn't trust the most: myself. I told myself it was better to be feared th...
