The Adopted Daughter of The Good Doctor

Angst and Attacks

"Where the Kentucky Fried FUck is she?" Bailey yelled at lunch. "I've tried to text her! I've tried to call her and she won't answer!"

"I don't know!" Logan answered. "I've tried to call her too. What about you Zach?"

"Hmm?"

"How about you? Have you heard from Clara?" 

Zach avoided eye contact with them and kept eating his food.

"That's a fucking yes," Bailey concluded. "Why is she gone?"

"Ask her."

"I've tried," Bailey told him, exasperated. "If you don't tell me where she is, I'll tell the police she's missing."

Zach sighed. This wasn't getting anywhere and he wanted Clara to tell them, not him.

"She left."

"No, really? You Dip Shit, I knew that," Bailey huffed sarcastically.

"Clara told me before she left that she was leaving for a month and she had to leave to go to Vancouver. Highmore wants to see her more since he is adopting her and he wants her to live with him in Vancouver right now. She didn't want to tell you guys because she didn't want you to be mad."

"I think this is worse," Bailey said. "She could've told me."

"Bailey," Zach started, "you have anxiety. She didn't want to stress you out anymore than you are now."

"I think this made it worse," Bailey said, breathing heavily.

"Bailey, calm down. You're sending yourself into an attack."

"Just, Just," Bailey started walking off, "leave me alone."

Bailey took himself to the bathroom and sent Clara a single text.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

As Bailey sat on the restroom floor, he laughed to himself. This reminded him of one of his favorite songs, "Michael in the Bathroom".

"And I'll get replaced with a cooler version of me," Bailey whispered. "I'm just Bailey who you don't know. Bailey flyin' solo. Bailey in the bathroom by himself."

Dylan went to the bathroom to check on Bailey.

"Bailey! You in here?"

Bailey tapped the wall once and Dylan crawled under that stall. Bailey had cornered himself and was hyperventilating.

"I can't breathe," Bailey said between gasps.

"Focus on something," Dylan told him.

"I ca-can't."

Now, Dylan was freaking out.

"Do you want to see the counseler?"

"N-no."

"What can I do to help you?"

"Call Cl-Clara."

"I've tried Bailey," Dylan argued.

"Try," Bailey inhaled, "again."

Dylan called Clara again. It went to her voicemail in an instant.

"Hey, it's Clara. Who are you and how have I ruined your life?"

"Clara, damn it!" Dylan began. "Answer your fucking phone, please! Your best friend is having a panic attack on the floor of the restroom and he fucking needs you. Please, just... call me back. Bailey needs you more than anything."

*****************Meanwhile******************

"Cut!" the director called out. "Can we pull ourselves together for one second?"