The Sessions (Calum/Michael)

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Calum shuffled through the file cabinet in the dark office. "The doc told us all of his files were in here," he informed the other boys, before letting out a small Ah! when he found "Clifford, Michael". Opening the file, Calum pulled out a DVD and a sealed letter. "The doc said we should watch it," he said, showing the other boys the disc. They nodded. After so many years, they were finally ready to see what had broken their best friend. Little did they know it was you.

-

"February 4th," came the doctor's voice over the black screen. "I have a new patient today, Michael Clifford. I've been told he's in a band and that he hasn't been able to sleep or focus. I'll see what I can do."

There was a shuffling and the doctor's office appeared. The doctor was seated in his chair, tapping his pen on a yellow notepad. The door swung open to reveal a very tired and distraught boy with dyed hair and black clothes. "Ah, Mr. Clifford. Please, have a seat," said the doctor, gesturing towards the couch next to him. Michael dropped onto the soft cushions and looked down at his lap.

"I'm Dr. Jones," said the doctor, popping the cap off of his pen. Michael nodded, still avoiding eye contact. The doctor adjusted his glasses and started to write something. This drew Michael's attention and he looked up. "So, Mr. Clifford. Why haven't you been able to sleep?" Michael shrugged, looking down again as the doctor continued to write.

"A dream." The doctor stopped writing.

"What kind of dream, Mr. Clifford?" He looked at Michael intently, waiting for an answer and Michael chewed his lip.

"There's this girl. I don't know what she looks like or what her name is. I just know she's there. And every time I try to talk to her, she gets further and further away. And I wake up. And I just sit there, thinking about her. I know she's the one. I just want to find her," he said, burying his face in his hands. The doctor was still writing. Michael rubbed at his eyes, weariness evident in his face.

"Do you have any idea who she is? Where she lives? If she's even real, Mr. Clifford?" Michael looked up with a frown. "What if she's just a figment of your imagination, Mr. Clifford?" Michael stood up.

"I knew I shouldn't have come. Thank you for your time," he said through clenched teeth before walking out the door. The doctor just watched him go.

-

Again, a black screen. "February 11th. It seems that Mr. Clifford is back for another session." The doctor's office appeared as it did in the last video. Dr. Jones was sitting in the same chair as the door opened. An even more tired Michael appeared, sitting on the couch.

"Mr. Clifford," greeting the doctor. "How are you this week?"

"She's real, doctor. I know she is. So please don't tell me she's a figment of my imagination," he replied, completely ignoring the doctor's question.

"And you have no idea who she is?" Michael shook his head. The doctor sighed and leaned forward, taking off his glasses. "Son, are you sure-"

"Don't even say it. She's real. Don't try to convince me otherwise." The doctor leaned back in his chair and slipped his glasses back on.

"What do you plan on doing, Mr. Clifford? Finding her?" asked the doctor. "You have no idea who she is or what she looks like." Michael looked defeated as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know, doctor. I know that. Why do you think I haven't been able to sleep? To think that she's out there somewhere and I just can't find her I-"

"So she's out there, Mr. Clifford. I'm asking you what you plan to do about it," interrupted the doctor, adopting a stern tone.

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