cliché

❝[☁️] n i n e 九

"Minho, how are you today?" The woman asks, smiling at the boy in front of her in a way that could suggest that they knew each other beyond the structure of a patient and a specialist; in truth, that could be, since Ms Kim is Seungmin's mother, which meant that they sometimes got to see each other in a less official setting.

Minho shrugs in response, his gaze falling to the side. He always tried to cooperate as best as he could but today he just wasn't in the mood for this therapy session.

Ms Kim seems to catch onto this immediately, so she chooses another tactic to approach him.

"Seungmin told me about the incident in school. Would you like to talk about it?"

Minho sighs. Of course he told you.

"I had a panic attack," he says rather bluntly.

Ms Kim nods in understanding, her expression remaining professional and attentive, not discouraged at all by the boy's attitude. "It's been a while since you had one, isn't it?"

Minho only gives her a curt nod, shifting in his chair.

"Do you suspect what could've caused it?"

Just some annoyingly cute boy named Han Jisung. Ugh.

He slowly shakes his head. "Not sure."

"Tell me, how are your stress levels? Have they calmed down a bit?"

"Not by much."

"And how are your sleeping habits?"

"Quite bad, actually."

"Is it four hours of sleep or less?"

"Hard to tell. I have got some night shifts at work now."

"Are you eating well?"

"I'm trying to cook for myself but I'm too tired for it most of the time."

"And how's your nicotine addiction?"

Minho nervously bites his lip. "It's gotten worse, I think."

"I've heard you've been overdosing your medication. Has your anxiety been bothering you?"

Silence.

Ms Kim presses her lips together in a thin line, writing something down on a sheet of paper. "Okay. We already discussed it, Minho. I don't want you to be fully dependent on medi–"

"Please, prescribe me more," Minho cuts her off, his voice barely above a whisper yet the silent atmosphere of the room allowed his every word to be heard clearly. "It's really getting worse, it makes me restless all the time. The noise, the people, everything. It feels like... it feels like my insides are twisted into a tight knot, I feel constantly uneasy and on edge."

Ms Kim tried her hardest to keep it together yet Minho could see the glimpse of motherly worry in her eyes – she knew Minho since he was a little kid. She cared about him more than she cared for any of her regular patients. He was like her other son.

Minho always was the one to bottle up his emotions, too scared to burden anyone. He kept to himself, pretending to handle difficult situations perfectly on his own.

So when he was opening up about how horrible he truly felt deep inside, she knew that it was a major warning sign, but also an encouragement that maybe Minho will let her in and finally let himself be helped.

"Minho," she speaks in a collected, soft manner, "If that's a necessity, I could increase your dosage. What I'm worried about is – will you be responsible with it? Will you be taking the prescribed amount, or will you overdose again? I can't risk my patient's health like that, and the amounts you're taking, apparently daily, are already worrisome."