Aunt Abbey had gotten me calm enough to talk to Liam about what had happened. I was still freaked about it though; I ended up trembling a little. The photoshoot was put on pause for me as Liam got a car to take Abbey and I to the doctor. I, of course, protested the entire way.

I hate doctors with a passion. It’s doctor’s that told my mom that she couldn’t have any more kids. It’s doctor’s that told my dad he had cancer. The way I see it, if I could avoid doctors for the rest of my life, then I would be happy. But, of course, I did something to piss God off so now he was punishing me.

Aunt Abbey must’ve noticed that I was ready to jump out of my skin as soon as the car stopped in front of the doctor’s office because she kept telling me that everything was going to be okay. How could I believe her? We were in a different country with people who practice different medicine. Surely, that’d give her some cause for concern.

“You’re not going to tell my mom and dad, are you?” I asked while biting my thumb and looking around the office. It was cold. Not as cold as it was outside but it was noticeably cold. Why must doctor’s offices be cold anyway? Don’t we have to suffer enough just being here?

“You know I have to,” Aunt Abbey replied. “My brother would kill me if I didn’t say anything about his daughter being sick or losing an arm or whatever.”

“It’s just asthma,” I grumbled. “It’s no big deal.”

“Do you honestly believe that?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. I didn’t respond. She turned back to the magazine that she had picked up off of the coffee table. It was one of those teen magazines. I didn’t understand a lick of Swedish but I could tell by the pictures of the seemingly perfect-looking boys on the cover. The industry that I’m in is so superficial sometimes.

Finally I was called into the doctor’s office. I knew right away I wasn’t at a normal doctor’s office when I saw that a lady was sitting behind a desk. Her hair was pulled back in a perfect bun and her hands were clasped together. She motioned for Aunt Abbey and I to sit down while I eyed her warily.

"So tell me why you're here today,” the doctor said to me as soon as the door was closed. She looked at me over her dark-rimmed glasses. I didn’t think she’d speak English that well.

“I have no clue,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. “My tour manager and my aunt told me to come.”

“You’re touring?” She asked. Isn’t what I just said? I bit my lip hard to keep my sarcastic comment in and nodded. “What kind of touring?”

“Music,” I replied. “I’m a singer, I guess.” That word still didn’t sit right on my tongue.

“She’s been having some trouble, lately,” Aunt Abbey replied. “Her breathing is affecting her. She has asthma but I’m pretty sure they’re not asthma attacks. And she’s been complaining of chest pains and dizziness. I’ve gotten her checked out a couple of times but everything seems fine. However, it keeps coming back.”

"Why do you think this is?" the doctor asked.

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here," I replied through clenched teeth. I hadn’t been here that long and I’ve already had enough of it. Next to me Abbey sighed. A sort of smirk bloomed on the doctor’s small, mouse like face. The fingers that had previously twitched now danced across the notepad that was in front of her, relieved they finally had something to write.

"You don't think you should be here?" The therapist was good. This was a much more complex question. Answer no and you're in denial, but answer yes and you're admitting you have a problem. I didn’t have one. Well, I currently had one with her but, that I knew of, I didn’t have a big problem.

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” I replied. “I was forced to come.”

"So tell me about this breathing problem."

Why change the subject lady? "It's not a big deal. It’s just asthma." I shrugged.

"Does it have anything to do with why you're here?" Another shrug. "I think it does.” That’s nice. “You’re touring you’ve said?” Ah, so you do listen. “How long have you been touring?”

“A few weeks,” I replied.

“Have you felt homesick?”

I shrugged. “Not really.” Abbey stayed silent and looked around the room, obviously trying to be invisible to some degree.

“Not really?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course but it’s understandable with traveling so much.”

“Do you think about them a lot?”

“When I’m not busy.”

“When aren’t you busy?”

“A few minutes between going from one place to the next, doing one thing and then another.”

“Do you have much free time?”

“Not really. No.”

“Would you say you’re overwhelmed?”

I shrugged again. Something was seriously wrong with my shoulders. “The amount of work isn’t hard to handle, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Not even mentally? Do you ever feel mentally tired?”

“I don’t get much sleep, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But you do sleep?”

“Yes, normal, living, breathing people need sleep to function.” The doctor’s eyebrows went up. If I was going to be stuck here answering questions I might as well give her what I was thinking.

“What would you say your child life was like?”

I blinked. She almost caught me off guard by switching gears. “Fun, I guess.”

“You guess?” She seemed to be hooked on the last word.

“My parents weren’t around a lot. They had to work. But they usually made up for it. I had friends to play with so I didn’t really notice.”

“But you did notice sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“Like when?”

“They weren’t around for my fourteenth birthday,” I replied. “I noticed that.”

“Do you know why?”

I shrugged. Aunt Abbey cleared her throat. I turned to look at her. Her eyes shifted towards me before looking at the doctor. “Her parents went on a couple’s retreat, to try and save their marriage. Her father’s my oldest brother.”

“I see,” the doctor said while writing down her notes. My lip curled. She saw jack squat, she didn’t know anything about us. “So they’re divorced?”

“Just recently, yes,” Aunty Abbey replied.

“Did the fight a lot?” The doctor asked me.

“Not in front of me, no.” I paused. “I didn’t really notice until I got older. I overheard them sometimes.”

“Did it bother you?”

“It made me wonder why they were fighting but I wouldn’t say it bothered me.” Lies. All lies. If it didn’t bother me I wouldn’t have cuts on my arm. It was strange, the way the doctor was looking at me. It was if she could read my thoughts.

“It didn’t bother you at all?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Most children would act differently if their parents were fighting. Act out. Become reserved. Learn to cope with the inevitable end of their marriage in certain ways.”

I glared. “What’re you getting at?” I demanded.

“Mack,” Aunt Abbey whispered.

“It’s quite alright,” the doctor said with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “I mean, some children don’t know how to cope. Some become so…dependant on their parents its as if they regressed in mentality. Some pick up other activities to take their minds off of it. Some…feel like they’ve lost control of something so they do something…drastic to get control in return.”

“Such as?” I asked.

“They fight,” the doctor replied simply. “Some try to get their parents back together. Some act out. Others develop bad habits such as smoking, getting an eating disorder, or harm themselves to some degree to cope with the pain of their broken family.” I hated the way she was looking at me as she said that. I wanted to knock her teeth out. She didn’t know anything about me. She didn’t and she never would. “Would you say you’re a Daddy’s girl or a Mother’s girl?”

I blinked. “Daddy’s girl,” I replied. “I love my momma to death, she’s my best friend, but…I don’t know, I adore my dad.”

“How close would you say you are to your parents.”

“Very close.”

“How much do you call them while on tour?”

“Once a day at the least.”

“Do you ever find yourself worrying if they don’t answer? That maybe something went wrong?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe.”

“When do you normally get your chest pains and have trouble breathing?”

“Before I go to sleep.”

“What do you think of before you go to sleep?”

“My family and friends.”

“About how you miss them?”

“Yeah.”

“How strong is that feeling? Of missing them?”

“Very strong. It’s kind of…”

“Stifling?”

“…yes.”

The doctor took off her glasses and started at me hard. I shrank in my seat. Aunt Abbey put a hand to my knee and gave it a little squeeze. The doctor then let out a little smile and turned to Aunt Abbey. “I’m fairly certain your niece is suffering from Monophobia along with a panic disorder,” the doctor replied. “Monophobia is an acute fear of being alone and having to cope without a specific person, or perhaps any person, in close proximity. I conclude that whenever she thinks about her friends or family and that she’s away from them her anxiety levels rise and she suffers a panic attack as a result. Is there anyone specific that she’s been…attached to lately?”

“Justin,” Aunt Abbey replied. I rolled my eyes. “He’s her best friend. They’ve practically been joined at the hip since they were born. This is the first time they’ve really been apart”

The doctor nodded. “And I think it’s a good thing, too. This way she can learn to be by herself and depend on herself instead of others.” I scoffed. I hated it when people talked about me as if I wasn’t in the room. It was annoying and downright rude.

“What can she do? What can I do?”

“Keep her busy,” the doctor replied. “That’s all you can do. Keep her busy so she doesn’t think about her home or her family as often. Keep her mind on the tasks as hand. Or get her take up a new hobby of sorts.”

Aunt Abbey nodded. “Okay, thank you doctor.”

Yeah, thanks for nothing.