so.... after this week i'm going to be gone for about a month.... maybe more. and in that month i won't be able to write or do anything, so! i've decided ((since i love you)) that i'm going to post two chapters from Hello. i know i was saying all that stuff about "x number of comments or RAWR D:< *nomnomnom*" but... honestly my self esteem hits the floor with my writing and i'm REALLY REALLY REALLY excited about this new fic <3 it's mostly written, so updates will be fast.
i'll post the first two chapters before i leave, and if i'm happy with the feedback i'll put up another two when i get back. think of it as a compensation of sorts for being gone ;]
i WILL however, be sticking to the comment policy about the LFW update.
4 more comments guys. it's not that hard ((actually 3 because my chalaina loves me enough to leave a comment on my post in crankdatmanboob :3 ACHIEVED!!!
Rating: Overall NC-17
Genre: Psychological, romance, angst, drama
Disclaimer: if i owned them i would be posting HD videos, not fics
Summary: Love knows no boundaries; it reaches the good, the broken, the hopeless, and even the insane
Author's Note: I'M. EXCITED.
“It’s a real shame…”
“He was one of their best…”
“Did you hear what happened?”
“One of his psychiatrist’s other patients killed him…”
“Shot the poor thing right in front of him…”
“Such a shame…”
January 4, 2003
Jung Yunho M.D, Psychiatry
As requested by Dr. Shim, I have started this journal for a self-analysis of my own mental health. He has requested that I write down all of my thoughts and verbalize my emotions as they come to me as well as writing things that bother me during the day. Well Changmin… here you go: I think this is a waste of my time. I know I’m not at risk for a breakdown and I think we can both agree that it was bound to come to him eventually. He empathized too much with his patients; got too involved. His last case was just enough to finally push him over the edge. We’ve been told from day one to never get too attached to our patients, but he just couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t necessarily a character flaw, just something you can’t have if you want to be in our profession.
Then again, I do have to admit his last case was a special one. He couldn’t tell much about the case (at least he followed one of the rules to a T) and I can’t draw many conclusions on my own without really analyzing the patient’s behavior for myself… Aish… I don’t know where I’m going with this.
Dinner when I get home. Feeling: Fine.
Sleep at some point tonight. Feeling: Fine.
New patient tomorrow. Feeling: Fine.
Overall feeling of the day: Dr. Shim needs to stop making his doctors do patient work.
January 5, 2003
I felt like getting this out of the way for the day, so I decided to write my “thoughts and feelings” first thing this morning when I got into the office. Feeling: Fine. I thought my alarm was too loud when I woke up as usual. I thought breakfast was a little burnt this morning. I’m not any closer to a mental breakdown than I was yesterday if that’s what you’re looking for in these, and I can guarantee that I won’t be any closer tomorrow or the next day either. Oh, and don’t get used to these being as long as the one I wrote yesterday. Dr. Shim said at least one entry a day; he never said a word about how long those had to be.
January 5, 2003
New patient didn’t come to his session today. It’s not uncommon for a patient to skip, just a little aggravating that they waste an hour of our time when we could be meeting with someone else.
On a better note: one of my other patients made some progress today. Kim Heechul didn’t see his Chinese “friend” during his session this afternoon. The medication seems to be gradually reducing his hallucinations, but I cannot be certain until he shows any other signs that it is working.
January 6, 2003
New patient didn’t attend his session again today. Since he is still a minor, I called his parents and voiced my concern for him not attending and about them letting him do so. His mother sounded shocked to hear it, which is strange since she claimed that she dropped him off at the front doors at exactly 9:30am and picked him up at 10:45am in the same place. She has agreed to take him directly to my office to insure that he attends tomorrow.
January 7, 2003
I decided to come in early this morning to look over my new patient’s file. It’s strange that I haven’t done that already… What if he had come on his first day? Or his second? I wouldn’t have been very prepared; I don’t know a single thing about him except that he doesn’t feel obligated to come to his sessions. As for how I feel: fine. I’m just a little eager to meet my new patient.
January 7, 2003
I ended up learning a lot about him today as I expected. His file told me that his name is Kim Jaejoong, 17 years old, adopted at age four, B/C averages in every grade… perfectly normal. But then, just about every one of my patient’s files sounds normal. It usually isn’t until you meet with the patient that someone can tell that they need psychiatric help. Jaejoong was no different.
My secretary let me know when his mother brought him in, so I decided to meet them out in the lobby to formally introduce myself to both of them. His mother was all tight smiles and sharp movements (obviously anxious about their situation) while Jaejoong was just quiet. The hood of his black jacket was pulled fully over his head and his dark hair fell gently over the rest of his face, blocking all but his plush lips from my view. It wasn’t until I had taken him into my office and shut the door behind him that I got to see the rest of Jaejoong’s face. He was… beautiful. All wide eyes and porcelain skin. But most of all he just looked… like a very shy child, and in a way I guess he was.
I already wrote the highlights of our session in my case log but… I feel like writing it here too. Like Dr. Shim said: “write what you feel Yunho.” Well, here you go.
Jaejoong didn’t say a word as he stood in my office, staring at the floor with his wide eyes and shifting his gaze every few seconds.
“Take a seat Jaejoong,” I said gently and gestured to the black couch across from my chair.
He hesitated a moment before finally following my instruction. He curled up slowly on the satin cushions and wrapped his arms around his knees before resting his chin between his arms, every muscle in his body on edge and ready to move at a moment’s notice. He still didn’t say a word.
I finally decided to ask him a question when I was certain he wouldn’t start this off on his own. Scribbling a few notes on my notepad, I looked up at my patient and let my words flow. “Do you know why you’re here Jaejoong?”
“Because I hear voices.”
My eyes widened slightly at just how… gentle his voice was. His looks were incredibly feminine, yes, but I just wasn’t expecting that. Still, I couldn’t let that distract me from what he said. I cleared my throat and pushed my glasses back up, writing a little bit more in my notes as I did so. “Do you hear the voices now?” I asked.
The watch on my wrist ticked silent seconds away. “What are they telling you?”
For a fleeting second I thought Jaejoong would finally meet my gaze, but the trickle of hope was soon lost when he just shifted his eyes to stare at the tree in the corner of my office. “They’re saying… that you’re trying to fix me.”
I nodded and offered him a smile. “I am.”
Jaejoong’s face only looked more like a confused child than it did when he first walked in. Again he considered his words carefully before letting them slip from his tongue. “Why are you trying to fix me? I’m not broken.”
He didn’t say anything else or look at me for the rest of his session.
January 8, 2003
Didn’t sleep much last night. Feeling: Tired. Came in to the office early this morning because I had nothing else to do. I did have an interesting conversation with Dr. Lee in the lobby though, and we both agree on something: Dr. Shim shouldn’t make doctors working under him waste their time writing their thoughts and feelings in a journal every day. Really, it’s unnecessary.
January 8, 2003
I made some progress on Jaejoong’s case this morning. It’s minor, but considering that today was only the second day I’ve been seeing him, anything is an improvement. At least he answered more of my questions today.
“So Jaejoong, tell me about these voices you hear,” I asked him after he got into his curled-up position from yesterday. For some reason the green color of his jacket drew my focus to the plush lips resting just above his fabric covered arms as he spoke.
“What about them?” he asked quietly.
“Anything. Is there anything in particular that stands out when they talk to you?”
Jaejoong stopped to think for a moment, his eyes narrowing at my shoelaces. “There are four of them,” he finally shared.
“Micky, Xiah, Choikang,” Jaejoong said without missing a beat.
My eyebrow lifted in confusion and my voice dropped slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Their names. Micky, Xiah, Choikang,” he repeated. How strange…
“That’s only three Jaejoong,” I said as I scribbled notes onto the paper in my lap.
“I don’t know the fourth one’s name.” His eyes slipped closed and his head fell to the side to rest in his arms. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that he’d fallen asleep. Still, I kept questioning him.
“How do you know their names?” I asked.
Only his lips moved when he answered, forming words in his gentle voice. “They told me,” he said cautiously.
I scribbled in my notes once more, drawing the characters slowly as I asked another question. “Hasn’t the other told you its name?”
“No.” Jaejoong snuggled his face deeper into his arms and an expression of contentment seemed to flash onto his face for a split second. “This is his favorite color.”
“Green?” I asked, referring to the deep emerald of his jacket. He seemed to like my answer. “Is your favorite color green too?”
“No. I wore mine yesterday.”
How I remember that the jacket he wore yesterday was black without thinking about it, I still don’t know. Regardless, I decided to press further on the subject. “Do you always wear clothes that correspond to what the voices tell you they like?”
Jaejoong nodded. “It’s not very hard. Xiah is happy the most because jeans are blue and I wear jeans a lot, but I wear other blue things on Monday too. Tuesday is black and Wednesday is green. Thursday is the easiest because Micky and Choikang like white.”
“I see…” I mumbled quietly as my pen scratched against paper, the tiny sound seeming to catch Jaejoong’s interest. He lifted his head slightly from its fabric resting place and opened his eyes to look in my general direction though still not looking at me. Still, it was the closest he’d been to doing so all day. “Do the voices tell you to do things Jaejoong?”
At first I believed Jaejoong wasn’t going to answer me. His doe eyes slowly darkened and his fingers absently began to play with his sleeves. He seemed to put a lot of thought into his words, but his answer was short. “Sometimes.”
His voice was much softer, almost frightening with just that one word. It really is a shame that he has to go through this… “What do they tell you to do?”
I didn’t get another answer from him for the entire fifty- five minutes we had left.
January 9, 2003
Not many people are cut out to become psychiatrists; I guess speaking to the mentally insane all day can mess with people’s minds. I’ve been at it for almost ten years now, plus interning for another three right out of high school, and I’m still just as sane as I’ve always been, if not more so. My profession has made me stronger and more understanding in ways that nothing else could make a person and I will never regret my decision to do this. The human mind is truly fascinating, especially when there’s something you need to decode with the little information it gives you. All of my cases have been relatively simple: common schizophrenia, dissociative identity disorder, minimal dementia, OCD, stress and phobic disorders... the list goes on. The thing that draws me to my cases the most is that there’s never just one answer to any disorder. Patients need customized treatment; no two are ever exactly alike and cannot effectively be treated the same ways. Sure, medication helps (that’s about as standard as it gets,) but it never really cures them. At least not completely. That, is where I come in.
Every now and then we get an easy case that can be controlled with medication and minimal therapy for a few months- the less interesting cases. Others take a lifetime of psychiatric assistance- the unfortunate cases. Most of them will never be completely right, and society will forever look down on them for something they never had control over to begin with.
How’s that for more reflective?
January 10, 2003
I got a call from Jaejoong’s mother late last night saying that she wouldn’t be able to escort Jaejoong to my office today. I didn’t see him until 10:42am when I caught a glimpse of his face from the car window driving away.
January 11, 2003
I woke up late this morning because my alarm didn’t go off and missed my first patient of the day. Feeling: pissed. If anything my patients need to know that I have stability they can depend on when nothing else in there life does. Being late and missing a session is absolutely unacceptable. I can never let it happen again.
On the brighter side, I bought the new mirror I’ve been needing to put up in my office this evening.
January 11, 2003
Jaejoong was brought in by his mother again today, and judging by his excessive fiddling with the hem of his shirt, she didn’t know a thing about his absence yesterday. That… bothered me? I’m not sure, but I didn’t like it.
His fidgeting didn’t stop even after I led him into my office and closed the door behind him.
“Your Umma doesn’t know that you missed your session yesterday, does she?” I asked, cutting straight to the point. My glasses sat low on my nose and gently pressed against my skin where I had the strong urge to press my fingers.
Jaejoong just continued with his nervous fidgeting and captured his lower lip between his teeth as he stared off into nothingness. “I don’t want her to know,” he muttered quietly enough that I almost missed it.
“Is there any particular reason why not?”
His eyes gaze flickered to the side; returned. “She wants me to come here so you can fix me and she won’t have to be sad anymore.” Unmistakable guilt stained Jaejoong’s features and his worn-out jacket sleeve finally fell away from his fingers. He didn’t want to put his mother through this, that much was obvious, but at the same time he felt that he wasn’t able to do what he needed to do to get better. This kind of thing has happened with several of my other patients, but Jaejoong just looked so… lost. “I don’t want to make her sad anymore.”
I hummed in understanding and set my notebook aside for a moment. Jaejoong took notice of my shift and quickly looked at the other side of the room, his fidgeting starting again. “So you know that skipping will make her sad?”
“Then why do you do it Jaejoong?”
In an instant I knew he hated the question; pain twisted his delicate face and darkened his eyes as it had two days ago. “Because they tell me to.”
I didn’t get much else out of him for the rest of the session, just a few yeses and no’s every now and then. It is a slight improvement though; at least he kept speaking when he used to cut off completely. He did say one thing toward the end of our time that caught my attention, though. “I don’t want to be fixed.” I started to doubt that I actually heard it, but Jaejoong was gone before I had time to ask.
January 12, 2003
Didn’t get much sleep again last night, but that shouldn’t be a problem today. Only a few of my patients have sessions, most of them in the late afternoon. Jaejoong is my only one in the morning. Feeling: Fine.
January 12, 2003
I’m really not sure about what I feel today. I got a chance to hang up my new mirror, perfectly placed so I don’t have to turn my head to see the open window when I talk with my patients, but that was the only positive thing that happened today.
Heechul started speaking in Chinese in the lobby and every so often during his session. When I asked him about it, all he would say is that his “friend” taught the language to him and that I was jealous of his ability. Although I do wish I could speak Chinese, this new skill concerned me. You see, this “Chinese friend” that Heechul has is nothing more than a hallucination he’s seen for several years now. He believes beyond the shadow of a doubt that “Hangeng” exists. But that’s not the thing that concerned me most about him today.
Jaejoong was on his way in just as Heechul was walking out (their times are one right after the other on Saturdays) and Heechul stopped in the middle of the lobby as Jaejoong walked by.
“My, my, my…” Heechul purred, turning his head and gazing at my young patient with a predatory look in his eyes.
Jaejoong stopped and stared right back at him, not saying a word.
His silence didn’t stop Heechul though, more like encouraged him. “Wa sei…” he whispered in Chinese as he made slow circles around Jaejoong, brushing his long slender fingers down Jaejoong’s jaw line as he went. He looked at the empty space to his left before a wicked grin spread across his face. “Hangeng and I both agree that you’re smokin’ hot babe. Ask Yunho for my number if you ever want to experience the better side of life.”
Jaejoong didn’t look away from Heechul until the latter was right in front of him gazing into his eyes from only a few inches away and getting closer with every passing second. The younger male’s eyes snapped shut as his head jerked way, his hands snapping up to cover his ears. His lips moved to form quite, frantic whispers and Heechul finally backed away.
In an instant I was by Jaejoong’s side and led him into my office, away from Heechul and away from stress. “Jaejoong are you okay?” I asked with my hand on his shoulder.
But his eyes stayed tightly shut and his mutterings continued. “Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop…” he chanted over and over. I’ve experienced episodes like this before with my patients, mostly schizophrenics like Jaejoong, so I knew that all I could do was keep him calm and try not to let anything else get too close.
It took fifteen minutes for Jaejoong to stop chanting; twenty for him to open his eyes and finally lower his arms away from his face, but even then, he still wasn’t quite calm. He brought a fist up to his lips and kept it there, chewing nervously on his fingernails as his eyes shifted from staring at one spot on the floor to another.
I waited for another ten minutes to see if he would calm himself any further, but my effort was in vain; Jaejoong stayed tense for the rest of our session no matter what I asked him or what I said. Static seemed to snap in the air with every movement the young boy made, the soft ticking of my watch like thunder. I was almost certain that he wouldn’t answer anything as the last five minutes approached, but one question finally drew an answer.
I’d just finished scribbling some notes in my notebook when my curiosity got the better of me and words fell from my lips without my knowledge. “Why don’t you look at me Jaejoong?”
The boy’s restless eyes stopped shifting, instead settling on the same corner of my office as he’d stared at five days ago. “Because I can see my reflection in your glasses,” he answered softly, his voice so smooth and fragile I almost missed it.
“Why do you not want to see your reflection?” I asked, leaning forward slightly and resting my chin in my hand.
Jaejoong shied away from the movement. “I don’t like the way I look,” he said quickly.
I, on the other hand, was absolutely shocked. How could someone so beautiful not like the way they look? His raven hair caught the light with every move he made and looked as if it were made from the finest black silk the world could produce. His eyes, although haunted and tired, held thousands of untold stories in their endless depth just waiting to be decoded by someone, anyone. And his body… any woman would kill for it. Perfect skin, thin figure with broad undoubtedly strong shoulders… What was there not to absolutely adore?
As if I’d spoken the question out loud, Jaejoong answered. “I don’t like anything about it at all,” was the last thing he said before our time was up.
A/N: be brutal with your comments. i can take it :9 if i got something wrong, please let me know. i'm obviously not a psychiatrist, nor have i ever taken a class about anything related to it. everything in here is based on my imagination and hours of research on the interweb :3 hate me not and leave a comment to tell me what you think of this <3