chapter one

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Emile drummed his fingers on his desk, waiting patiently. He hummed quietly, watching the door. He wasn't used to being the one waiting on someone else, he was typically the one late. Emile's gaze shifted back to his clipboard. He exhaled slowly and read the paper.

Name: Remy Sandoval

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Issue: ???

Extra Notes: ???

Resolution: ???

The lack of information bothered him, but he'd hopefully learn something. His attention snapped back to the door as the knob turned. The door swung open and a man walked in. He had dark brown hair that appeared to be brushed haphazardly out of his face. He wore dark sunglasses, which kept his eyes hidden, and a black jacket that was unzipped, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. "Is this the right place?" The man asked, his voice somewhat tired. He took a sip from his drink, which looked to be Starbucks. Emile wasn't sure though, he didn't drink much coffee.

"Are you Remy Sandoval?" Emile asked. The man, Remy, nodded. "Great! Come sit." Emile gestured towards the couch. Remy walked over to it and plopped down. He sat with one leg crossed over the other.

"Great." Remy said curtly. It didn't sound malicious, but it didn't sound that very glad or relieved either.

"My name's Emile, but you can just call me Dr. Picani.. o-or just Picani, if the 'Dr.' is too formal for you." He smiled. Remy nodded in response. "So... Remy! Hello! Do you how do?" Dr. Picani asked, hoping he'd get the reference.

Remy stared at him, his visage bearing a confused expression. "Hm?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Picani quickly looked down. "Not a Spongebob fan, I suppose," He said quietly. He looked back up at Remy. "I meant how are you?"

Remy nodded. "Ah," he said. "To be honest, I don't know, my friends forced me to come here, and stuff." The man's shoulders raised for a second in a small shrug before dropping again.

"Well," Emile began. He tapped the frames of his brown glasses, deep in thought. "How has today been? What have you done?"

Remy leaned to the left a bit. "Well... I left my apartment around 5:15 this morning and, since it's my day off, decided to walk around town for a bit. I got some coffee and... Yeah. I don't remember much else."

Dr. Picani nodded. He scrawled down a couple notes. It was a bit concerning that he couldn't remember anything else he did, so he decided to question him further. "What about yesterday?"

Remy shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I honestly don't know, sis. The past few weeks have just blended together, ya know?" I remember going to work, though."

Emile nodded. Forgetfulness. He wrote. He racked his brain for causes. He doubted it was Alzheimer's, since he was only 26, so it could be stress, anxiety, lack of sleep, depression... Emile sighed quietly.

Remy was looking around the room. Picani's office was decorated with several colorful posters and action figures. It looked more like a children's clinic than a legitimate therapy office. Though he found it a little confusing, Remy couldn't help but smile a bit. "Nice room," he commented, breaking the silence.

Dr. Picani looked up. "You like cartoons?" He asked, trying to hide his excitement. It wasn't often he had a client that shared the same passion as him.

"Oh, uh.. No. I haven't watched cartoons in a while," Remy explained "I just meant I like the atmosphere and stuff."

Emile nodded. "Oh, well I'm glad you like it." He smiled a bit. Remy briefly held up his hand with an 'ok' sign. "So Rem! Er- Remy! As your therapist, there are a few things I need to know in order to help you."

Remy cocked his head. "Like... what?"

"If you don't mind me asking, do you have a history of depression, anxiety, or anything else along those lines?" Picani asked, looking down at his clipboard.

Remy shrugged. "Not that I can recall," he said. "I may have when I was a kid or teen or something, but I don't pay attention to those things anymore. I have work and college to worry about.

"That's not good at all!" Picani said, looking up at Remy with a concerned expression. Remy shrugged, staring at his cup, which was now empty. Picani sighed, opening a drawer and shuffling through it for a moment and then pulling out a small notepad.. "Here, Remy." He handed it to the other man. "How about you write in this journal whenever you can. Write down what you're thinking, and I can go through it when we next meet to see how you're doing."

Remy took it and stared at it for a moment. "Soooo.... A diary?" Remy asked, a bit skeptical. Picani nodded enthusiastically. Remy shrugged. "Alright, I guess it's worth a shot."

"Great!" Emile clapped briefly, smiling. He glanced at the clock. "And I suppose you can start whenever you want to, your session is over." After he said that, he sighed a bit.

Remy, however, stood up.. "Well, uh.. Thanks, Pic. I'll see you in.... A week?" He shifted his weight from one leg, to the other, then back again.

Picani nodded back, his smile returning. "A week."

Remy nodded. He slipped the notepad in his coat pocket. "I'll see you then."

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