ent. @lvnderhaze
CREAK. CLICK.
click. pause. click. the restroom is an black-brown vinyl and ivory porcelain echo chamber, minimally decorated for the user to have some sort of scenic experience. in comparison to the lavish, moody decor of the overlook, it's simplicity is a sight for sore eyes. never mind that it's the only corner of privacy on the island, where lens follow and eyes follow closer. the faucet runs, drowning out the burbling melody of the virtual call loading on the laptop sitting on the countertop. seha slips off his spectacles to cup the water, dousing it across the warmer patches of his face. he looks in the mirror. smiles, frowns, then smiles a little less, practicing what he'll show his psychiatrist this time. the better he's doing, the shorter the meeting. he'll smile, nod, tell her he's doing fine and wait for her to sign off on 3-month refill of his medications. it'll be curt and easy, he tells himself. then he can go back out, look into the cameras and lie about how nice it is to see so-and-so again when he can barely remember half of their names. "seha? hello seha, are you there?" the screen loads with his psychiatrist's greeting (her voice is agonizingly enthusiastic, with a condescending edge that gives away her specialty in children and that seha, who she's been treating since his high school years, is a special case).
he switches on the camera, the mic, smiles (tired but not too tired) and returns the greeting. their exchange is a practiced formula; he talks, she listens. she talks, and he pretends to listen, gaze somewhere between the camera and the time, occasionally responding with nods, hums, and the well-timed laugh to an unfunny joke.
his eyes flicker to the door, the psych's voice fading to a mum. it's cracked, unlocked, a sliver of light melding through. from beneath the frame, a shadow shifts from foot to foot. wordless, seha closes the laptop, taking off his airpods. he washes his hands, shuts off the faucet, and opens the door with a smile (kind, but not too kind).
"sorry," he says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "you can use it now."