"We haven't gotten anywhere, Y/N." My therapist said.

"Well maybe I don't want to fucking talk." I bit back, angered at her prying.

She didn't flinch or react to my words, her face stayed blank as she continued doing her job. "What made you do it? What made you think you are worthless?" She asked for what seemed like the 50th time. I didn't want to open up to her, though. The only person I ever opened up to left.

After my ugly crying phase, I was pissed. I couldn't cry anymore, all the tears have been drained out and all that is left is just... anger. Anger for being abandoned and anger at myself.

"I'd rather talk to my b- ex boyfriend about this than talk to you" I avoided the question. If I started a sentence, she'd know my whole life by the end of the session.

It's been a few days since I've gotten out of the hospital and I'm recovering well physically. Mentally, I'm broken. It was like my whole mind repeated itself from 10 years back, hurt--but the difference is that this time, I was the one that caused it.

"If you keep these things in, you're going to get yourself hurt." She disrupted my thoughts.

"I'm already broken, no one can fix me..." I whispered quietly.

Apparently she heard me. "What caused that?" She pushed.

I already said too much. I couldn't say I killed my ex best friend and how my ex best friend's family killed mine. I couldn't tell her how I was involved in a gang. I couldn't tell her how broken I am because she'll see through me. She'll be able to see every little thing I've been trying to hide.

No matter how thick my shield is, she'll find out because that's what therapists do. They push until they find what they need. I need to keep a mask on.

"I don't even know why Taehyung signed me up for this." I muttered as I played with a strand of my hair ignoring her stare.

"He signed you up because he cares, Y/N. It's nice to know people are there for you in your worst time," she said plainly. "My parents were never there for me when I was around your age, they were always surrounded in work, and I'm guessing yours are too." She continued.

I was surprised. She was, in a way, correct. I couldn't seem crack her gimmick or surprise her. She always kept this plain emotion on and even if I said the most shocking thing but she'd still have a normal face on. I want that mask. That mask to keep things at bay even if it was the most heartbreaking thing. I wish I had that mask when Jungkook left. "By your expression, I'm guessing that you are going through that too. You know, your friends are always there for you. And you can always lean on them." She tapped her pencil against the clipboard

"I've heard stories from clients before, and I know you have a story too. You don't have to think of me as a therapist, you can think of me as a friend." She said.

Something I don't have. Yeah, I have Bangtan, but they're family. Friends, no. They backstab you and they hurt you. They make you feel like you've done things wrong and they make you feel fragile.

"That's something I don't have, Miss. They backstab you and they wait to strike. Friends know you the best, so when they find you at your worst, they push you down with them."

"So think of me as family then," She said, writing on her notepad.

A whole-nother story.

"Family? I lost them a long time ago. I don't have any family. They left me here alone." My voice turned into a whisper at the end.

I had realized that she got most of the information she needed. She pried me open without me even knowing. I stood up from my chair as she stood up as well. "Many people are here for you, Y/N,"

"Yeah but the one I need most isn't."

She stayed quiet.

"Don't act like you know my whole life story when you only have the beginning." I scowled. I stood up, clenching my fists. "Session is over." I turn my back to her.

"I'll see you next time, Miss Y/N." She gave a small smile.

I was heated, angry. I turned around, walking towards her and getting real close. "There won't be a next time." I said before storming out of her office.

Tears sprung into my eyes as I entered the lobby, finding Taehyung sitting there and waiting to pick me up. "Y/N?" He asked, standing up and noticing my tears. He pulled me into his arms as he stroked my head. "Let's go." He whispered, making sure not to make a scene even though some people already were staring at us. I shook my head against his chest, not wanting to move.

"Don't you people have other things to do?" He snapped at them before he picked me up bridal style and carried me out to the car.

He unlocked the car with one hand and placed me down me into the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have signed you up for this," he sighed as he turned the car ignition on.

I wiped my tears with my sleeve, sniffling. "I-it's fine, thank you for caring," I assured him.

"It's not fine, Y/N. You're hurting inside and he-we don't know how to fix it."

He might not know my whole story, but he cares and he doesn't pry me open like a can of tuna. I'm so grateful for him and Bangtan.

Taehyung connected his phone with bluetooth to the car and he selected a song I've never heard before.

You say love is messed up

You say that it don't work,

You don't want to try, no, no

And baby, I'm no stranger

To heart break and the pain of,

Always being let go

This voice is familiar, too familiar. "You know, Jungkook just recently recorded this song with Jimin and Namjoon-" he suddenly paused at his sentence, finally realizing that this song was towards me. I was already full-on sobbing, though.

Another tear out of hundreds of tears sprung out of my eye. Of course he wrote one about me. I drowned out all the apologies Taehyung is saying, vowing to myself—

I'll keep this mask up and maybe, just maybe I'll never get hurt again.