"Would you like me to call you Ella or Elena?"
"Elena is fine, thank you."
"Wonderful. I'm Dr. Wren, but you can call me Ellen if you like," my new therapist introduces herself.
"Nice to meet you, Ellen," I grin from my seat and fiddle with my fingers.
With some encouragement from Ares, I opened up to Malcolm and Imani about what happened.
The look on Malcolm's face was one of pure horror, and sensing his panic and my being on the verge of depression, Imani suggested a good therapist. Now I'm here.
"Nice to meet you as well, Elena. Now, the first session is an introduction. After today, I'm going to see how often we need to set up sessions depending on how severe your mental health is going down."
"Considering I got drunk and almost killed myself, I'd say it's pretty bad."
The shock on Ellen's face gets a chuckle out of me, because hey, if I'm not laughing, I'm crying.
It's pretty comical how Ellen immediately gets her notepad and starts writing things down already.
"I assume that's one of the reasons you scheduled an appointment with me?" she asks and crosses her legs in her seat.
I nod and lean back in mine. "My manager and his assistant said that it'd do me some good. I didn't realize I needed this, someone to talk to and to help me better understand my emotions and cope with them."
"Okay," she hums and notes something else down, "so that's one of your goals? To learn how to cope with your emotions in a healthy way. What else?"
"To accept grief and do it in the right way. I feel so... lost and empty without Violet and want to prevent from getting self-destructive."
"I assume you were very close to Violet?" Ellen concludes, and I nod. "Yeah, she was my best friend."
"How did she die?"
"She overdosed. It was a suicide."
Ellen is back to taking notes. "You haven't been dealing well with grief. Most people hold on to anger, straight-up don't talk about it, or are in denial. You know the five stages of grief?"
I nod. "I was in denial at first when I found her. I didn't want to believe that she was... gone," I bring out, my throat thick with emotion.
"Did the denial last a long time?" she asks and tilts her head to the side. "It lasted the entire night. Even when the realization sunk in, I didn't want to accept it. The anger came not long after."
"Who or what were you angry at?"
"I felt like I was angry at everyone. I was mad at my friends because they knew about her addiction – or, well, they knew she used but didn't know how severe it was – and kept it hidden from me. I was angry and sad when I found the note Violet left me because all I kept asking myself was why she didn't say goodbye? Why would she do that instead of talking to me? I was angry at myself for not seeing the signs and being so ignorant."
"You went over a lot of scenarios in your head, wondering what would've happened if things were different?" Ellen asks me and I nod.
"Those are one of the worst," I sigh and close my eyes, feeling the desperation at how I feel whenever those what-if situations pop up.
"I think the stage of acceptance will be the hardest one for you. To acknowledge the fact that she won't come back and learn how to live with it. Because the pain will fade, even though it doesn't feel like it at the moment."
"I really want to manage my grief," I tell her and she nods.
"Coping skills are normal. There is no normal amount of time you get to grief. It varies for each person. You might want to find a coping mechanism in alcohol, drugs, food, or even work, but those are only temporary tools that will make you feel better before you feel so much worse than before. You will not heal faster and learn how to deal with it," she warns me.
"I know. I tried the alcohol thing to numb myself, but it didn't work."
"Is there a first step you think might help you to process Violet's death?"
When I nod, Ellen gives me a look that says to tell her more.
"I want the dealer who gave Violet the drugs behind bars."
When I step out of Ellen's office, Ares is sitting on one of the chairs, having waited an entire hour for me.
He stands up as soon as he sees me and pulls me into his embrace. I can't help the smile from breaking out on my face and hug him back.
"How was it?" he asks and slides his hands up to cup my face. I grin at him. "Really good. I already set up an appointment for in two weeks."
"I'm proud of you, baby," Ares grins and leans down to kiss me. "I love you so much," he murmurs against my lips.
"I love you more," I giggle cheekily and can't believe I'm one of those people saying such corny stuff.
With our hands entwined, we walk out of Dr. Wren's office and onto the streets. I like how Ares doesn't let go of my hand on the short walk we make to the car.
How even when the world is watching and people are probably taking pictures of us holding hands, he pulls me even closer to him.
"Letting the world know you're mine," he smirks and leans down to kiss me, right before opening the car door for me and letting me in.
Our chauffeur immediately starts to drive once we're all buckled up, taking us to our hotel. We're in California, doing the last of our tour. This weekend, we're performing in Sacramento.
The last few shows we've done went okay, despite Vi's absence weighing down on everyone. There has been one show where I didn't cry on stage, so that's a good thing.
On the way to our hotel, I tell Ares briefly about my session and how I want to talk to Caleb about the dealer who gave Violet the drugs.
I'm assuming that that's the same dealer who supplies him with weed and coke.
That needs to stop.
I told Malcolm about Caleb's addiction, and when Caleb consented, we're all collectively helping him stay sober.
He's getting sober for himself first. Kyle has been an amazing support as well.
Nick, Caleb, and I sit down daily to check up on each other, and those talks have been good for us.
The car stops in front of our hotel and we don't waste time going in and straight to our room.
Ares told our management team to just book a room for us together since we're always with each other.
It made me smile and blush like crazy when he did that.
As soon as I'm in the room, I take a shower where I let everything in the session today sink in. Showering after bringing up such intense emotions feels relieving and soothing.
My therapist immediately brought up EMDR, which is Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It's a form of therapy that makes you relive a traumatic experience and makes you learn how to move past it.
I agreed to do it in the future when we both decide I'm ready for it.
Ares waits for me with a towel when I step out of the shower stall and sends me a smile.
"I don't like not being with you," he explains when he wraps the towel around me and leans down to plant a kiss on my forehead.
I lean into him and sag against his body. "I don't like not being with you either," I admit and turn my head to plant a kiss on his chest.
When he dresses me in his shirt and sweatpants that are way too big for me, he calls it a lazy day and asks me to just stay inside with him.
"But Delilah asked me to hang out," I chuckle and watch his jaw clench. He approaches me and tilts my chin up.
"Fuck Delilah, you're mine," he rasps out and leans down to kiss me. "Stay, please?"
"Okay," I agree with a smile.
I jump into Ares' arms after Dopamine's show. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I start peppering his face with kisses.
"You guys were so amazing, as always," I grin and lean in to kiss his lips, ", especially the drummer."
I was backstage the whole time, jumping and screaming along with the songs as if it was the first time.
"Be honest, how many times did you secretly sneak into our concert?" Ares smirks, still holding me as he walks down the hallway.
"Way too many," I blush shyly, "did you ever know I was there?"
"I saw you leave the venue once and figured you just forgot something and came back to retrieve it. But then it happened a few more times and I knew it wasn't a coincidence," he chuckles and kisses my nose. "I came to every show of yours," he admits, "I love seeing you perform. You're like magic."
When he gets to his dressing room, he puts me down and is about to open the door when a voice stops him.
"Ares."
I've never seen Ares turn rigid so fast. His jaw clenches and his eyes shutter, the warmth in them leaving immediately.
Taking my hand in his, he turns his head to a man and woman heading down the hallway, toward us.
When they approach, I look back at Ares and am met with the face of impassiveness. It makes me go back to the time when our bands were first touring and how he'd behaved then.
When I eye the couple in front of us again, I notice the resemblance Ares holds with the man, who is undoubtedly his dad, and the eyes he has from the woman.
Dimitri and Eva Aetos.
"Father," he says and shifts his eyes to the woman, "Mother."
I'm meeting the parents?
"If we don't come to these shows, we don't hear anything from you," is what his father says first thing, and when his eyes move to me, Ares protectively wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to his side.
"Maybe there's a reason for that," is all Ares mutters and opens the door to his dressing room, "now, if you don't mind."
"We don't see you for over a year and that's all you have to offer to us?" his dad scoffs, offended.
"That's all I have to offer, indeed," Ares sighs, annoyed.
His mom takes a step forward and hesitantly looks up at him. "Honey, I've missed you."
Her eyes land briefly on me, and she sends me a forced smile before looking up at Ares again.
I can't help but dislike her. She's turned a blind eye to the abuse Ares suffered at the hands of his father. I don't recall Ares ever mentioning her taking care of him or putting him in a safer position from his father.
Ares glances back at his mother and there's a whirlwind of emotions detectable on his face.
I take his hand in mine and give him a squeeze, letting him know he's not alone and that I'm right here.
My heart skips a beat when he gives me a squeeze back.
Instead of replying to what his mother said, he addresses them both. "You never care to attend any of my shows. Why now? What do you need?"
"Your mother wanted to come," Dimitri says. "You know what I think about your... lifestyle."
"That's why I enjoy it even more," Ares smiles sarcastically.
Dimitri narrows his eyes at his son. "You truly wasted your time, foolish boy. You could've had the empire I built and..."
"Heard enough," Ares sighs and drags us both into his dressing room, slamming the door shut in his parents' faces.
"Well, you met the family," he mutters silently and goes to take a seat on the couch, burying his head in his hands. "I don't know why the fuck they showed up. They just... annoy me at this point," he sighs and pulls me closer when I take a seat next to him on the couch.
"Well, your dad said your mother wanted to come. Maybe she wanted to see at least one of your concerts now that you're in town?" I offer and all he does is huff.
He buries his head in the crook of my neck. "I'm sorry you had to meet them like this. I wish I could say I have loving parents and we could all go to dinner, but I simply refuse to put you in that position. My dad is an asshole, baby, and I love you too much to make you spend time with him."
"It's okay, Ares," I whisper and rake my hand through his hair. "You don't have to apologize. Your parents never acted like parents and don't deserve that title. It's in your right to act like you did and not want anything to do with them."
Ares is quiet, taking in my words. It's silent for quite some time, where I just enjoy his company and revel in the warmth of his arms.
"I was thinking that maybe I could go to therapy as well," he surprises me by saying. "I... I still feel so angry toward my dad. I fucking hate the guy and resent my mother for being with him, for always choosing his side."
"I support you in that, darling," I whisper and press a kiss on his cheek. "We could look for a therapist together or I could recommend you mine. Take your time."
"Say that again."
"What?"
"What you just said."
"I support you in that..." I trail off and he shakes his head. "After," he hums and I blush.
"Darling?"
He makes an approving sound and presses a kiss on my neck. "I like that."
"I'll make sure to remember," I giggle at his kisses and turn my head so our lips meet.
. . .
I desperately need a guide on how not to hate my own work. Cuz that shit is exhausting.
Anyway, I watched Black Panther: Wakanda Forever on Friday and the way I sobbed in the theatre during the movie is laughable.
Amazing movie. Got chills so many times.
Okoye is a queen and Shuri owns tf out of me.
Moving on, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
I love you.