Mina Kulseth (sagacious) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-12-01 09:19:00 |
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After a rather successful first piano lesson, if Mina did say so herself, she and Torrie cleaned up the sheet music they’d been using before making their way over to the sitting area of the classroom. Mina sat on one of the armchairs, leaving the other free for Torrie, or the couch if the other woman preferred to sprawl out. Grabbing the notepad out of her bag, along with a pen, Mina smiled and said, “So why don’t we start with your goals or what you’re hoping to gain from these sessions. We can revisit these as often as you want and can use what we discuss here to measure progress.” Torrie relaxed into the other arm chair, kicking her feet over the side (unprofessional as it was), and gave Mina a considering look while she processed her answer. It felt like deja vu without feeling like deja vu at all. She’d sat in her fair share of group sessions and one on one meetings in her rehab stints. But something about the way Mina said it hadn’t made her prickle and roll her eyes the same way it usually would have. It helped that she knew she needed to do this because of an agreement she’d made with Lita. And because she wasn’t dumb enough to think that it wouldn’t be good for her. “Well, I’d like to be able to put some of my damn demons to rest once and for all,” Torrie replied. “I just don’t feel like I’m really a functioning adult because of some of the bad shit I’m still carrying around, even if I’ve got more of my life together than I did a year ago.” She started an absent beat against the arm of the chair with her boot heel while she talked. “I don’t know, some days it feels like people still see a fucking Ghoul when they look at me, and it makes me still feel like one.” Torrie tried not to let it get to her, because people’s opinions hadn’t ever mattered as much as her own, but with Austin changing, she wanted to be able to change with it. Mina jotted down notes as Torrie spoke, pleasantly surprised at the amount of material she had to work with. Torrie wasn’t the type to come to the Sober Living Community and participate in the counseling sessions they had there, so she hadn’t been so sure this would even be successful. Thankfully a one-on-one setting seemed more agreeable with her and Mina was grateful. “So the term Ghoul has a negative connotation then? What does being a Ghoul mean to you?” Mina asked. Of course she was familiar with the term and the culture, but she was sure for Torrie it had deeper meanings than even she knew about. Torrie shrugged automatically, then pursed her lips while she thought. “It’s negative for anyone that never carried the fucking label,” she replied. “But it used to mean I had a place in everything, you know. It might not have been fucking pretty, but I had a couple people watching out for me. I belonged somewhere.” She continued tapping a soft rhythm. “It’s fucked up, and I wouldn’t want to go back to living in a subway car, but I never thought I was some fucking degenerate.” If she had she wouldn’t have held to her argument with Lita for as long as she had. “There’s enough stigma around drug addiction, without creating new fucking labels for us.” It was still an ‘us’ even if Torrie had been clean for more than a year. She knew how delicate of a balance it was for her to stay that way. “The Ghouls were as fucked up of a brotherhood as the Hellhounds in some ways, but the difference was that the guy at the top was trying to do some good.” Maybe Mina didn’t know that about Sister Slaughter, or maybe the news had spread, Torrie hadn’t honestly paid attention, But she wasn’t going to let anyone continue thinking that Virgil had been as bad as the Dog King. Still nodding and making quick notes where appropriate, Mina couldn’t help but feel hopeful about the issues that Torrie faced. Feeling lost didn’t have to be a permanent feeling and Mina was confident that they could help her find her place in the world, even with all the changes she’d gone through. “I know about, KC of course, but are you still in contact with any of the people you lived near in the tunnels?” “No,” Torrie answered. “KC’s the only one that hasn’t left or died. I didn’t make a lot of friends.” Even at her best she could have counted all of them on one hand. “I don’t make a lot of friends in general.” She knew her faults without anyone telling them to her. She had never needed too many people around either; maintaining friendships had been too exhausting on top of everything else. “Most of the Ghouls were about their own fucking survival.” Torrie figured Mina already knew that, given how much she’d worked with the addicts already. “I guess I wasn’t any different. It’s just, I got lucky and there were people watching out for me, making sure I didn’t fucking OD on that shit.” Mina nodded, understanding the need to have someone to look out for you, but she was happy to note that it seemed Torrie needed it for different reasons these days at least. “It’s difficult for me to make friends, too,” Mina admitted, “But I think quality is preferable over quantity. What kind of support system do you have now that you’ve left the tunnels? It’s not unheard of for recovering addicts to be able to go through it alone, but it’s much easier with someone watching out for you,” she said, smiling as she used Torrie’s phrasing. “Besides KC? My brother and my roommate.” Torrie smiled, but it was really more of just a crinkling around her eyes than anything else. “Lita would kick my ass if I went backwards.” They might not sit and braid each other’s hair, but Torrie knew that Lita was there for her with the shit that really mattered. “She’s a doctor, so she knows all the medical shit that happens with drug addiction. Talking to someone,” Torrie paused and glanced over at Mina, “was actually part of the agreement when we moved in together.” At least it hadn’t seemed to make a difference that Torrie had drug her feet in actually finding someone tolerable enough, that wasn’t the group sessions at the sober living community. She went there sometimes, but she hadn’t ever sat in on a group and she probably never would. “And Sol’s always been my fucking rock. Even if he was a world away, if I called, he came.” “Quality over quantity,” Mina repeated with a smile. She knew both people that Torrie was referring to, and although she didn’t know them well she thought she knew enough to know that they seemed like good people to have in your corner. “So what are your goals? You’ve already made mention of not wanting to continue to be perceived as a ghoul. Do you have any aspirations for your career?” Mina had really enjoyed her first lesson and the fact that Torrie was willing to start at square one with her and even teach her to read music really spoke volumes (no pun intended) to her teaching abilities. There was definitely potential for Torrie’s teaching career, Mina only hoped that Torrie could see it and focus enough to harness it. Torrie shrugged, re-situating herself in the chair, then redoing the topknot she’d thrown her hair into shortly before their lesson had started. “Until a couple months ago I didn’t have a career anymore.” There hadn’t been a lot of call for musicians, or so she thought. The fucking Lumineers were the kings of the music industry now, and wasn’t that just fucking unfair. Torrie thought so. “Teaching was something I was never going to do with my degree,” she admitted. “Until I got this job I didn’t think I’d even be any fucking good at it.” She threw a sardonic little smile Mina’s way. “I’m not really the type people think of when the word ‘teacher’ pops in their head. To be fucking honest, I didn’t think they’d even give me the job because of my history.” She shrugged again. “But I miss performing too. I had just signed a recording deal before the outbreak started.” Pushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, she went quiet for a few seconds. “It’s a shame that we’re living in Austin and the music scene is dead here.” Life had a funny way of leading them into unexpected paths, but Mina knew that sometimes those things turned out to be the most successful or rewarding. Already, Mina could see a difference in Torrie from when she’d first met her in the tunnels. Many other things had happened, of course, but having a sense of purpose did wonders to a person’s self esteem. “A recording deal? That’s impressive. Even though that contract doesn’t exist anymore -- and truth be told who knows if the recording label even exists -- is that something you’re still interested in pursuing? Obviously it’s different these days. I don’t know if you had another job while you were working on that before, but juggling two different ventures can be taxing. But we could use these meetings to cope with that and develop time management strategies,” Mina said, hoping to offer a viable path towards Torrie’s unfulfilled dream. Torrie nodded, agreeable to the suggestion, maybe a little excited. Tentatively, but it was still there, and surprising because she thought she’d become too jaded to get excited about such a little possibility. “I was responsible for booking musical acts for a small entertainment venue in Denver,” she explained. “It was a good way to make connections while I was working on my own shit. I never really decided to stop working, I just couldn’t fucking do it while I was trying to just survive.” She kicked her feet, and shifted so she was cross-legged in the chair. “If it’s not too fucking stupid, I think I’d liked to try and get back to it.” It was the first time she’d admitted it to herself or anybody else. It had felt so far out of her grasp while the walking dead had been chomping at everyone’s heels. “Maybe even try to get a music scene back in Austin. I can’t be the only fucking musician left.” She shrugged, like that idea was maybe further out than working on her own music. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Mina said reassuringly. “Even if there aren’t as many professional musicians, music is still one of those universal things that all people seem to like. And considering the fact that Austin basically had no new music in the past few years, I would imagine new music content or a live music venue would be welcomed.” Mina paused, writing down a few more notes, then produced a clean piece of paper and a pen and handed it to Torrie. “Okay. So why don’t you write down the goals we’ve just discussed. And then I’ll give you a bit of homework for next time and ask you to brainstorm how these goals can be broken down into smaller tasks that can more easily be accomplished but will ultimately feed into your bigger goals. I found that was a really effective studying habit in college and can be used in other applications.” It was obvious on her face that Torrie hadn’t expected homework, but given that she’d sent Mina with homework she probably should have expected that she would receive some of her own. “You were a library nerd, weren’t you?” she asked, no trace of judgment in her voice, and a smile that curved up the edges of her mouth and smoothed out some of the harshness of her features. Mina cracked a smile before nodding at her assessment. “That sounds fair enough, though,” she continued with a nod before she jotted down the things they had just talked about, flipping the paper for Mina to see, like a ’show your work moment was actually necessary. “I really fucking appreciate this.” Was she supposed to thank her counselor? Torrie didn’t know or care, but she’d always been good at reaching goals, even if she was shit at formulating them herself. With Mina’s help some of the things she thought weren’t practical just might turn out to be the opposite. Gathering up her papers and her own homework, Mina placed the items in her bag before moving to stand up. “I’m happy we were able to get this set up. Message me if you have any questions in the meantime otherwise I’ll see you next week at the same time.” With one more smile at Torrie, Mina walked out, feeling quite accomplished for what they’d been able to achieve in their first meeting. |