𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀

mark scout was tired. a far cry from his innie, the kind, bright, kind, proud employee that he was. not that outtie mark would know. that’s just what lumon had said. he didn’t want to go to therapy. he didn’t need it. that’s why he got severed, to avoid the institutional diagnoses, the invasive questions, and the endless medications, that all led to an inevitable lack of result. and devon had been suggesting it forever. so here he was.

he swallowed the urge to roll his eyes as he sat in the waiting room, watching the seconds tick by slowly on the clock hung on the wall. the dull room was practically empty otherwise, although, therapy isn’t how most normal people spend their saturday mornings. on second thought, mark scout isn’t quite a “normal” person.

mark barely noticed his name called by the receptionist, standing almost on autopilot. he walked past the desk, his shoes scuffing against the floor as he floated by, more focused on the thoughts that occupied his mind. his brain only really began to register what was happening as he sat down in your office, when he realised he was staring blankly into your watchful gaze.