Madam Mayor

Chapter One

There comes a point in everyone's life where the hustle and bustle of the everyday becomes too much. Sometimes a person doesn't notice until they are already stuck in the grime of it all. Sometimes a person witnesses themselves firsthand, spiraling out of control. Sometimes it passes right on by and they may not truly realize until it's far too late.

This is exactly why Regina Mills is here, accepting those stern, beady little eyes as they narrow in on her, judging her. The overwhelming smell of leather clings to the air. A smell she used to enjoy, inhaling sharply and sinking into the aroma but not today, not anymore. Everything irks her soul, from the obnoxious tick of the second hand as it rounds the clock, for the fifth time, the cold air from the vent above, slightly ruffling her hair, sending a cold chill to slither down her spine. She desperately wants to reach across the cold, black, leather couch for the throw pillow just in arm's reach and place it in her lap for comfort, but she refrains. Never show weakness. Instead she slides her left foot off her right ankle and proceeds to cross her right ankle over her left. A nervous tick she refuses to address when she feels so exposed.

She scrutinizes the man intently as he strums his fingers against his thick pad of yellow paper. His other hand is gripping his pencil tightly, waiting for words to finally spew out, so he can write something down. Eventually, after far too much time has slipped by, he places the pad of paper down on his lap, along with the pencil on top. His long, boney fingers slide his glasses off his nose and rests them next to the pencil. He sighs in defeat.

"Regina, if you want this to work, then you're going to have to trust me and really open up," Dr. Archie Hopper states firmly, pinching the bridge of his nose from the frustration festering inside.

A sweltering heat blazes from head to toe, yet, she manages to keep up with the facade of indifference. She clears her throat and nods curtly. "Where shall I begin?"

A warm smile graces the psychologist's face and as comforting as that may seem, she's still so cold all over. "Let's start off with why you are here."

She waits patiently for the man to pick up his pad of paper and pencil, so he can record every detail she is about to spew, but he doesn't. Instead, he folds his hands on top of the paper and calmly waits for her answer.

"Beside the simple fact that it's what is best?"

"Why do you think it's best?" He presses, stressing his words to convey his sincerity. "Do you even want to be here?"

"I know it's for the best. I don't want to continue down this path."

"What path is that?"

She sighs heavily, knowing she needs to participate honestly if she wants this to work. And there goes another tick of the clock to haunt her. She swallows, she can't keep living like this.

"This path of feeling nothing."

"Why do you believe you feel nothing?"

"Most likely from the never-ending piles of paperwork and responsibilities that come with being a mayor. I don't have time for anything outside of my job. Don't get me wrong, this is what I worked for and I love my job. I just..."

"Just what, Regina?"

"Feel blah," she mumbles in frustration for her mouth betraying her heart.

"You feel blah? Is this a continuous feeling or do you only feel like this when you're at home or at work?"

"It's constant. I feel...nothing."

This intrigued redhead across from her, finally snatches up his glasses and slips them back on. He makes a point to push them a little further up his nose by only his index finger. Then, he proceeds to pick up the pencil and pad of paper, setting them onto the small table next to his chair. She stiffens. Dr. Hopper rests his elbows onto his knees as he slides forward in his chair, a stern expression contorting his face. Her fingers lock tightly around each other as anxiety begins to spread through her blood.