After finishing up with my therapist, I feel disheartened.

I was the issue the whole time. Everyone knew how I acted, yet no one said anything. Tom is the first person to ever tell it straight to me. Maybe they wanted me to figure it out on my own and fix it? This hasn't overshadowed the fact that Damon lied to me multiple times. They're better without me. Everything is. My parents, Gunther, Damon, Tom, Freddy, the fans, even everyone here. God, I wish I had a drink right now. A stiff drink. Damn, the whole fucking bottle. But that would just be proving everyone's point. That I'll never change. I'll never be worthy of anything.

I hold back my tears, taking a few deep breaths. Hearing my stomach grumble, I head towards the main entrance so I can get to the dining area. A young-looking nurse stops me on my way.

"Morris, right?"

I nod.

"I have a letter for you. Also, the man who came for your visit, Mr. Hale, he left you some money for your account."

She hands me the letter and I stare at her in shock.

"He did?"

"Yes, Ma'am. This card is for you. Think of it as your bank card. Friends and family can deposit money on it when they visit and your paycheck for work goes directly to it. Also, the card gives you access to the fresh café and the store on site. The café has fresh, daily prepared foods. You know, stuff that isn't pre-frozen or comes from a can. The store offers many things. Brand name basic necessities, simple clothes, stationary, candy, snacks, things to decorate your room, and a lot more. To get to these areas you just have to scan your card. If your card is lost or stolen, report it immediately. If found that you let someone else use your card, snuck someone in, or bought things for another resident, your card will be taken away for a period of time. If you want cash for Saturday afternoons, you take out what you want with the activities coordinator. Any questions?"

She hands me the card and smiles.

"Do you know how much he gave me?"

"You'll have to check with your activities coordinator. Oh! I almost forgot! Here is Mr. Hale's address, he left encouragement to write him often. He wasn't able to set up another visitation yet. He said he was unsure of his work schedule but he would try to come back once a month or so."

She hands me yet another slip of paper and walks away after I thank her. I was pretty sure he didn't want to talk to me after he just left the room but I guess he does. I'll have to write him to figure out what's going on. I change directions and head towards my room to drop off my letter and Tom's address. After I lock my door, I head towards the officers to try to remember which one holds my activities director. All I can remember is that it's a guy. Luckily a staff member is walking down the hall towards me.

"Um excuse me, I'm looking for the activities coordinator."

"Which one? There are 4."

"Uhh... It's a guy."

She sighs and taps her heel impatiently.

"There are two male activity coordinators."

I blink at her. She sighs again and knocks on the door closest to us.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Vod, I need your help out here. This young lady has forgotten who her coordinator is."

This Mr. Vod opens his door and it's my activities coordinator.

"Ah, Miss. Morris. Thank you, Wanda, I got it. Please, come in."

Wanda scurries away with a huff. Mr. Vod follows me into the room and closes the door behind him before sitting at his desk.

"I'd figured you didn't take in my name the first time we met. What can I help you with today?"

"I just got this card and I was wondering how much my friend put on it."

I hand my card to him and he begins typing on his computer.

"Ah yes, you received this after visitation today. Looks like your friend put $50 on it for you."

He hands me back the card and I frown.

"Only $50? What am I supposed to do with that? So he'll give me $50 once a month? That's not enough to live off of!"

Mr. Vod clears his throat to catch my attention.

"Betty this isn't necessary. In here every need you have is met. We give you food, a room, clothes, and all the basic necessities for free. This card and the things it gets you is an incentive. The meals we serve in the cafeteria are balanced and the menu changes daily. I'm sure one of the staff told you all the rules for this card?"

"Yes. Don't do anything or you'll take away my card."

He smiles and shakes his head.

"Such a pessimist Miss. Morris. Just follow the rules and no disciplinary actions will have to be made. Have a good rest of your day."

I leave and head straight for the cafeteria. No way am I spending this money now. I want to check out the store first. See what kinds of things I can buy there before I spend all my money on food. Plus today is pizza day. I grab a tray, loading it with a piece of pepperoni pizza, fries, diced peaches, and a small side salad. I also grab a water and a diet coke. After dinner I go right to my room to read Damon's letter.

"Dear Betty,

Seriously? Pretty boy? You sound like a middle school bully. Don't act like you're superior. I know how you act and the way you get. I answered your question, like it or not. I'm not sugarcoating it for you. Tom leaving was the best thing that could've happened to the band. I don't care if you forced him out, kicked him out or he left willingly. All I care about is that our careers were made after he left and Freddy joined. You're always talking yourself down and guilt-tripping. I hate it. This is stupid. I don't want to fight with you in a letter. No matter how long you're there, it's still fucked up your parents destroyed your kit. No matter how bad of terms you're on with them, they shouldn't have done it. They know how important music is to you. It was like a metaphorical kick in the face. Well, you did stab your dad with a pen though. So I kind of get it but it's still fucked up. Yeah, I did refuse therapy. But this isn't fucking about me, is it? You know my situation with my parents. I'm not even allowed to see my own little brother Betty. They thought I was a Satanist and I was gonna sacrifice poor, innocent Betty Morris. So fuck you. You keep low blowing me and I'm gonna fucking stop writing you. I'm trying to support you and be here for you B. You're making it so difficult with the way you're acting. I will stop counting. Whatever this Betty is, I would rather her be in there right now.

Damon."

What an absolute dick. I mean did Freddy write this letter or something? Should I send back his necklace? No, fuck that. I'm keeping it. It's mine now. If he wants it he can be a man and come here to get it. Too bad he's too much of a coward to because of Freddy. I take a deep breath and begin writing back.

"Damon,

You were the one with the attitude in the first place so I don't know why you're getting pissed with me. That wasn't even telling it to me straight, you were being an asshole! Right. I know all you care about is music and fame. I know. So you can prove to your parents, who you say you don't care about, that you made it. How humble Damon. Guess what. Nobody fucking cares about the bassist. The lead singer is the whole band, don't you read anymore? How the fuck do I guilt trip you? Explain that to me. Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like I'm just stating facts. I stabbed my father in the hand with a pen because he was blaming everything on you. He was going on and on about none of this would've happened if I stayed away from you. I defended you and it got me a restraining order from my parents. So fuck you too. Maybe it should be about you Damon. You always act so fucking high and mighty like you're better than everyone else. Stop writing me, see if I fucking CARE. You're a pussy anyway. You won't even come see me or talk to me on the phone because you're afraid of Freddy. Oh no, it's because you're afraid of getting kicked out of the band. Again, music is what's most important to you. More important than Jonah and me. It'll always be that way. Keep telling yourself that your parents are the reason you can't see Jonah. He's what, 15 now? Keep telling yourself that it's not because Jonah doesn't want anything to do with your punk ass. Shit, I bet if I reached out to Jonah, he'd come see me before you. I bet your parents would even come see me. Fuck you, Damon, fuck you. I don't need this shit. I'm in here trying to become better. What a great best friend.

Betty."

I shove the letter into an envelope and hand it to the first nurse I see. I'm trying to catch my breath while laying in bed. I'm beyond angry. My therapist walks by then comes back and knocks on my door.

"What do you want?! Now's not a good time!"

"Clearly. I just wanted to let you know that you got the reception job. Lucky for you, no one else applied. Congratulations. You start Tuesday."

I sit up and can't help but smile.

"That's great, thank you. Is there anything else I should know?"

"You'll be working 8am to 6pm Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. You'll have to eat breakfast before you come in but you'll get breaks for lunch. If they let you go early, you'll still get paid for the whole shift. There is a dress code. No baggy sweaters with holes in them. No tight or revealing clothing. We pay for your first uniform and if you want more, you can stop by the store and pick some things up."

Eagerly I lean forward.

"How much?"

"It's just like a normal job. You'll be making $10 an hour. And your check will go directly onto your card every Friday."

I bounce excitedly on my bed.

"Yes! Great! Thank you so much!"

"Also a few reminders. Tomorrow is laundry day and the cooking club is canceled until next week, just in time for you to participate. Before our next meeting, I'd like you to buy a daily planner from the store and write down your schedule for me. You'll need to use this every day and always write your schedule down ahead of time. Since you have a free day tomorrow I suggest volunteering for laundry duty."

I nod, happy I'm now going to be making money.

"Yes Ma'am! Will do! Thank you so much!"

My whole mood is brighter. I'm not even worried about Damon anymore. This is great. I lay down and quickly fall asleep.