Buzz!

I looked up and it was a young lady, walking into my office. Had to be in her early twenties. A punk rocker or too late to the party punk rocker type. She had purplish black hair, her arms were covered in red, blue, green and yellow tattoos. Her right nostril had a small ring and was wearing ripped up jeans complete with a red black shirt. She had not a longboard, but a skateboard and had a fake fierce look to her. She was a white young lady so from the vantage point of not a licensed physician, but a black man steadily approaching my thirties, I had to ask myself, what the hell was her deal?"

"Good afternoon." I said, shuffling through my files looking for her name. "Robin Sloane?"

"Hi." She replied with.

"Is that you?"

"Yeah, that's me. Doctor Richard Anders?"

"You got him."

We stood there in silence for a moment as I couldn't help but inspect her a bit. I like to know who I am dealing with when I meet someone from the first time. The problem was this young lady was nearly unreadable. Within a minute and a half of meeting her and hearing one word uttered from her mouth I could see that her mask was so thick that I had my work cut out for me.

All patients are different. Someone came in with a goal in mind and work with me to achieve that goal. They know that they have issues. To put it bluntly, they know that they are fucked up and are only here to receive help. These are the patients that get the most out of therapy as they are taking it up as though it was a class requirement to graduate from college. Then, there are people who come here for one reason or another. Court orders, parents, they saw some celebrity talking about the benefits of therapy. Maybe they saw Kati Morton and thought that every therapist with fit that style. These types of patients were always the hardest to work with as at the root of their problem, they truly did not know what they wanted. They come in and say tome nonverbally "Okay, I'm here. Fix me���

"Please." I started, having no time to allow this to linger any longer. "Take a seat."

Robin sat down on the chair as she faced me. She was trying to give me a blank stare. However, her legs told the story. People like to say that the eyes are the windows into the soul and this is truth. Yet, the legs tell a lot more than what people give them credit for.

Crossed and rubbing together? Anxious much? No bends in the knees and just sitting straight? Who are you trying to please? One leg crossed on top of the other? Would you like some wine with your cheese? Sitting wide open be a boy or a girl as your legs stretch out from side to side? I'll grab you a beer. Her knees were tilted inward as he ankles gently shook.

"Robin, is this your first time in therapy?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. What made you want to start seeing me?"

"I thought you looked cute in your bio picture."

"I meant why do you want to see a psychologist."

"Oh, sorry. Mind is in the gutter. I…��

She trailed off after that, raising slight concern in me that she was broken. I looked at her and saw that she was still breathing so she was still with me. This wasn't uncommon with patients who had experienced a great deal of trauma in their lives. Wanting to be in the chair is one thing. Being able to utilize it? Try harder.

"Take your time." I told Robin even though was taking more than enough of her time.

"It's rough to talk about what's happened to me."

"Please, go on."

Robin put her face into her palms, swaying from left to right. Part of me desired to go and comfort her. But that was not in my job description. All I could do was sit in my chair with my pen, pad and hold space. Hold space as she was beginning to lose it. It is one of the most helpless positions one can be in.

"If this is too much for you, we can try again another time. Perhaps…"

"No, no, no." Robin said, taking her face out of her palms, tears fading into the pore of her cheeks. ��This is expensive. I'll talk. My father, my father… he raped me when I was kid."

A normal person would be more than taken aback by this sort of revelation. Shocked would be a better way of putting it. Sadly, today it wasn't uncommon to come across young women who had a sick father. It was a sad state of affairs. I came across young men and women who were raped as children while I was logging my hours in graduate school. These were people that because of something that they had zero power in are now considered damaged goods.

"How old were you first this happened?"

"It first happened when I was five."

"This happened repeatedly?"

"Yes."

"How long did this go on?"

"Until I was 12."

I wanted to throw up. The fact that this young woman could stand here right in front of me and say any of this was nothing short of a miracle. Her mere essence was a sight to behold. Holding it together I began to write down some quick notes as I slowed down my breathing. Picturing seven years of hell was brutal.

"You've already got a lot of inner strength. How old are you?

"Just turned 21."

"Nine years now since it's ended, correct?"

"Yeah."

"How much to do you think about it?"

"Everyday. I just can't help it. It won't go away."

After speaking for a bit more Robin's first session ended, I escorted her outside. Looking at her, I could already see small shifts in her. Her posture was straight, her chest was puffed out, and she was hiding a smile on her face. If she could withstand all the bullshit that she has already had to deal with in her life thus far, she was going to be more than fine. Her potential was endless.

"I hope that you found that helpful. My apologies if I didn't go any deeper."

"No, it was helpful. Looking forward…to more."

"Until next time."

"Bye."

Robin jumped onto her skateboard and was off. What a mystical creature she was. As I stood there in her afterglow I received a tap on my right shoulder. To my left was Zoey Lagasse. Doctor Zoey Lagasse. She was a psychologist who at age 31 had already achieved an immense amount of success. She was a regular contributor to Psychology today. She had been on theToday show and live with Kelly and Ryan. Last year she won the Jean Nicod Prize. She hadjust finished up writing her first book "the mind first, then the body and soul."

To put it simply, she was one badass bitch.

When you compared that me, I was a mere rookie. Twenty-six and it was only my first weekin the practice. I wasn't too far removed from grad school as that scotch after breath was faintyet rang. According my professors and Doctor Johnathan Hanks, owner of the practice, myPH.D thesis book showed a great deal of promise.

Whatever that amounted to.

"Having a moment there, Doctor Anders?" Zoey said with her natural sexuality spilling out of each syllable.

"Just seeing her off."

"Don't get so attached to patients."

"Who said that I was?"

"Just advice. Take it or leave it. You see potential in a patient and then the next day they overdose. It's apart of it."

Another thing about Doctor Lagasse was that she had become quite jaded. The success that she had made her see the field in a radically different way. With all the attention that she received came more and more people who desperately wanted her to treat them. With that she had been more exposed to different kinds of people than most psychologists normally would. Nowadays, there wasn't much that could surprise her. She had seen the craziness of humanity several times too many.

"Party tonight?"

"Not really."

"Are you still not over Martha? Graduate school is your past. What about your future?"

"Tactful Doctor."

"You've psychoanalyzed yourself; you can handle it."

"So that's why I did it. To get told to get over shit.."

"All I am saying is, you can't keep yourself locked up forever. You can open the window the you've been keeping shut."

"Sounds nice. In due time."

"There is never a better time and you know it."

She was good. I wasn't sure if she was this blunt with her clients are not. Regardless, she certainly put you into a corner with logic. She had this way of making sure that you knew that you weren't doing the most optimal ting without making you feel like an idiot. It was a skill that very few people possessed. Balancing two ends of a scale perfectly.

"Okay, I'll bite. What is the big deal? What's so special about tonight?"

"It's not a matter of it being special. It's a matter of it being Saturday night and you want to bitch out."

"That vocabulary of yours must have made you famous."

"What did the trick was I wasn't a boring bitch."

"Can't accuse you of that."

"So, what's it going to be? Are you in? Or are you just going to crawl inside your prison, I mean apartment?"

"Hey, The Godfather part three is on AMC tonight. How bad could that be?"

"Are you just scared of those parasites that the news talked about?"

"What? The things that they "Demons"? No Doctor Lagasse, I am not scared of them."

"It's okay if you are because I totally am. I mean, what the hell are those things? And if they are inside a human you wouldn't even know?!? It could be anyone."

"Fortunately, they live underground so we should be good."

"See, we need someone as levelheaded as you at the party. So, come. Please. For me.

The way that Doctor Lagasse's eyes lit up when she said those words cause a slight electric

shock to the heart. She had always been kind to me, but she seemed to be taking quite the interest in me at this point. Whatever the case was, she was making it harder for me to reject the offer. Her tactics were on point.

"Ugh."

"I promise it will be fun! If it's not, I'll order you a lyft back to your jail cell, I mean,

apartment."

"For real?"

"Do I ever joke around?"

'Is that a trick question?"

My hand was swiftly brought into a handshake right after Doctor Lagasse swiped it up. Her shake, while not too firm, had some force behind it that I was not expecting. She looked at me with a devilish, yet childlike smile that could not be broken off of her face. What a persona that she liked to play.

"That's a yes." She said with too much pride.

"Why? Because you forcefully shook my hand?"

"You were on the fence anyway. Just hurried along the process. Text me your address. I'll pick you up at nine."

Doctor Lagasse walked away as I pictured a Lioness walking off with her gazelle. The energy that she held was fuel that lit an inextinguishable flame. Her body was fit. Her face soft, yet serious. Her voice, firm and assertive. Her eye contact was strong, yet engaging and welcoming with her blue eye. She wore makeup, but it was subtle enough that you could have a glimpse at some of her imperfections. And she walked with a purpose no matter where she was. If Billy Joel had met her, he would have wrote a song about her.

Back at my apartment I was getting ready for this party. I wasn't so sure how nice it was going to be, so I figured a nice white button up, dress shoes, slick jeans and a lean leather coat would do the trick. A good look. But also had that "just threw it on" kind of vibe that I was going for. Was I trying too hard? Eh, perhaps. You can just never know with these. So, shooting for the middle was the way to go tonight.

My cell phone went off. Doctor Lagasse was on the other end. She was here thus ending my deep existential not. I had to say, she was overall, one cool customer. It was entirely possible that this was all an act and she was just as if not more neurotic than most normies out there. But if that was the case, then she was a great actress, which would be cool.

Leaving my apartment, I rushed down the stairs then calmly walked out of the door. Doctor Lagasse was behind the wheel of a blue convertible Mustang. Top was up, unfortunately. It must have been cleaned recently as the car looked rather slick. Dr. Lagasse was in a fine black one piece, her jet-black hair was straight which complimented her sophisticated, sexed up look.

"Get the hell in here!" Dr. Lagasse yelled out. Making my way to the passenger seat, I noticed more little things about her. She had a little buddha bobble head on her dashboard. There was a classic Garfield stuck on you doll on her passenger side window. A skull was in the middle of her steering wheel. Her floor mats were Pee Wee Herman. And Jack Skellington dangled from her rear-view mirror.

"Love the car." I spat out, which no artifice I might add.

"Thanks. Got him two years ago."

"Him? What's his name?"

"Wilred."

"Oh, like the car from Fullhouse?"

"Exactly like the car from Fullhouse! You watched that show?"

"Everywhere you go, everywhere, there's a heart."

"Classic."

"So, real talk. The covers down?"

The sound of the covers going own as Dr. Lagasse cranked her engine, pressing the gas on thatV-8 engine and the song Hotel California came on I couldn't help but get swept away in theexperience. When you live in a city like Los Angeles, or just California in general, gettingcaught up in your day to day life is what it's all about. That is the "business" or rather the"busyness" of life for you. Society is a house of cards that can get knocked over at any time. But while it's up there are nights like tonight that remind you of how special this landscape is. How much history is all around you. How lucky you are to be where you are.

We got on the freeway and headed from Beverly Hills onto Sunset Blvd. Sunset is no wherenear where it was in its glory days. From the 40s and 50s being fueled by classic moviespartying it up at the chateau marmot. To the 60s and 70s where rock and roll tok over. To the80s where metal was all the rage. After that, it just died off. Still, a it was filmed with classic Hollywood glam.

When you passed by the comedy store you could hear the wall whisper something about Robin Williams. The Viper Room had an aurora that could only be described as edgy. Driving up the hills felt like you were going into another world. In a way you were. A lot of people liked to say that about Beverly Hills. Certainly, that applied to Rodeo Drive. However, I resided in a decent over priced apartment that was barely in Beverly hills. I wasn't in some McMansion. Up in the Hollywood Hills, even the poorest person was a baller down below.

"Doctor Anders." Doctor Lagasse started. "Why all this? Why not just become a paleontologist?"

"I came from a fucked-up family. My dad was a hustler and got our family fucked. Figured that I needed to understand why they were like that helps others avoid that."

"Real shit."

"Unfortunately."

"You should be grateful."

"Never heard that before."

"If you're family had been some basic family from middle America, you would have never reached the heights you have."

"I guess you can say that in their own way, they drove me to success."

"Putting an end to your family's line of crazy? Great driving force."

Pulling up to the driveway the house was divine. A long snake like driveway that lead to a modern looking two-story home. The chic white that the home was painted with was perfect for the light that was reflected off it. It was on the edge where you could see a coyote taking a walk. I knew that Dr. Lagasse was doing well. But I didn't realize that she was big enough to hang with the likes of these types.

As she parked, I couldn't help but look at her. She turned and looked at me. We both paused, looking at each other. It was a weird moment. As colleague, the sexuality has be turned down clocked in. Add in your typical every day life and there was no room for get to know yous. So, when you do get to be two normal people together on a Saturday night, well, the truth of the dynamic between the two of you flows.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Lagasse asked, breaking the ever too long pause of tension.

"You ready to go in?" I rolled off.

We exited the car and walked up to the front door. It was unlocked as Dr, Lagasse opened it. On the other end was a world of pure bougie. You could see a glass door that led to this swan white like pool where people were gathered. In the kitchen a bunch of people were gathered, making some amazing drinks. By amazing I meant Blue Label and Cokes. Margaritas with Tears of Llorona.

As I was stopped to make myself a Blue Label and coke, out of the corner of my eye I spotted a man approaching Doctor Lagasse. He had this delayed frat boy look to him. A lot like someone who was stuck from a glorious past at U.C Fullerton? His hair cut was so non offensive that Freddy Jones would make fun of.

"Yo! Zoey!" Cried out this guy who forgot what year it was.

"Fred? Is that you?" Zoey said. Of course, this guy's name was actually fucking Fred.

"Nice seeing you again!' Fred said giving Zoey a warm hug. I was still left wondering just who the hell this guy was.

"So, Fred, I want you to meet my colleague, Doctor Richard Anders, Fred Silverstone. Fred,

Doctor Anders.

"Nice to meet you." I said, extending my hand for a handshake.

"Likewise." Fred said, returning my request for a handshake with a fist pump. Like a true douche.

"How do you two know each other?" I asked, looking to get out of engaging directly with Fred.

"We met at a medical convention Miami." Zoey answered, turning her attention towards Fred.

"I never thought that you would be out here." She said, twirling locks of her hair.

"I just moved out here."

"Wait, no way?!?"

"Way!"

I know that I of all people should know be practicing the art of psychological projection, but what the hell? We just walked through the door and she meets up with some guy that she probably had a random one-night stand in Miami with. Were my odds that terrible? If we had walked in minutes sooner or later, he would have stayed where he belonged. In her distant memories.

"We should get some coffee sometime." Fred stated. "You know, catch up."

"For sure." Doctor Lagasse replied, smiling ear to ear as I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going to mingle a bit." I stated, having seen enough.

"Huh?" Doctor Lagasse uttered.

"I'll just let you two catch up alright?"

I patted them both on the back and walked away. Petty? A little. But man, I was not wanting to deal with that. I was happy to be here after all. Things appeared to be lit and it was only rolling out. It wasn't her fault that Freddy Jones Jr came out of nowhere. But I wasn't going to be the guy that had to stand by and watch someone do their work.

After I chugged by Blue Label and Coke, I poured myself a shot of random tequila and chased it down with a bottle of Dogfish flying dog. Then someone passed me a blunt that was going around. The rush that I had was a little baby version of speed balling I suppose. Without the cocaine, heroin, rock & roll and groupies. Nevertheless, that quick dash was having me feeling better in an instant.

By chance I turned my head to the left and coming from the right was a woman who, to put it mildly, was breathtaking. She was tall, fit, blonde, and had silver eyes. Her red lipstick resembled Jessica Rabbit's and her out was top notch. Leather boots, a leather hat, leather jacket and a leather skirt. She had a necklace that looked like a used Rottweiler's change. That is what I meant by breathtaking. Either that or she was a "damn" kind of person. .

Right before she walked by me, I grabbed the nearest unopened beer and brought it right to her face, stopping her dead in her tracks. She looked at me, then the beer, then back at me and then the beer. She smiled, took the beer and began to drink it. It was like one of those super bowl commercials.

"Uh yeah, thanks for that." The mysterious and gorgeous woman said as sipped on her beer.

"Of course. You looked like someone who I used to know."

"Is that so? Who?"

"My apologies, I meant someone that I'd like to say I used to know one day."

That was either are effective or a strike out worse than Casey at the bat. I looked at her face for any signs of a direction. She couldn't help but begin to smile over that and let out a chuckle. It was great how some lame words could be gold to someone's ears at the right moment. It was all of matter of timing and setting.

"What is your name?" She finally asked.

"Doctor Richard Anders.'

"No shit? You're a doctor?'

"Not a medical doctor."

"A shrink?"

"How did you know the nickname that my mother gave me?"

"Guess it felt appropriate."

'And your name?"

"Lynn. Lynn Taylor."

"Well Lynn Taylor, it was lovely to give you that beer."

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Mingling."

"Guess I'm boring?"

"Don't take it personally."

I smiled as she couldn't help but at least let out a smirk. Most guys come across as eager to me and just want to rush the process. Maybe I'm just different but I enjoyed the chase aspect of it all. The toying that could be done when you have her hanging on your every word. For me, it was a necessary piece of the attraction puzzle.

Once we began to go on a bit one thing lead to another and we found ourselves outside sitting on a pool chair. She was on lap as the two of us were completely lipped locked. Out of the corner of my right eye I saw that there was a new moon as that same coyote walked by it. I wasn't sure if new moons meant something good or good bad. But tonight, I didn't mind the darkness in the night's sky. Lynn then began to back off a little bit, as my alcohol and weed fueled confidence eased off me with her.

"Something wrong?"

Lynn pointed to finger to the left. As I turned my head to left, I saw a group of people staring at us. Didn't even need to completely turn my head to the right to see not one, but two groups of people who were enjoying the show. Just needed some of Orville's best. People have always been freaky. When a couple of people were having a good time they of course had to stare and make the lady feel uncomfortable. How rude.

"We can go upstairs." I said, not caring how that sounded."

"Wow, forward. Lynn responded."

"Not to rush anything. I just felt that we were having a good…"

Grabbing my cheek, Lynn looked into my eyes before kissing me softly. Once she released my lips and looked into my eyes again, I was caught up with the swirl of her vortex. She had briefly led me into another dimension that was not of this world, but within her clutches. As nebulous as that sounds, there really isn't any other way to describe it.

We then found ourselves in one of the guest bedrooms. It was as though we were in a roomy hotel room. The bathroom was huge, with a hot tub and shower. Bath robes and towels galore.

The bed had silk pillows. There was even a hotel like telephone right on the nightstand. The artwork in the bathroom was more expensive than my college tuition.

I planted her onto the bed as we began to make out. I took off my pants as I began to take hers off. She then decided to flip herself on top of me, effectively pinning me down. Once she took off her shirt I had no objections. She began to look at me as if I was prey that she had wanted to possess. It was no different to how I was looking at her just an hour an half ago.

"Where are you from?" Lynn asked

"New Jersey."

"I figured."

"Figured what?"

"That you weren't from here."

���What was the giveaway?"

"You end your words and sentences sharply. Out here, we like to drag them."

"It's that surfer vibe."

"Must be. Anyway, I guess this is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, I'm new at this."

"New at what?"

"Shit, it was going so well before!"

"Wait what?!?"

As I began to try to free myself, claws came out of Lynn's fingers. I looked up and what I saw terrified me to the bone. Lynn had red, devilish eyes and bat like ears popping out of her head. Wings that were bat like out of her back. She did still look attractive. If this were some sort of role playing, amazing reveal. Sadly, it wasn't looking as though I was that lucky."

"You're a demon?"

"Shit, they warned me about making the victims suffer."

"Suffer?"

'Fuck, let me just get this over with."

She lunged for my next as I turned, resisting with all my might. And it took all my might because Lynn was stronger than an ox. She then crouched up on top of me as she continued to dig in her claws. Those claws hurt worse than an angry cat going at you. I wanted to let go. But I knew once I did, I was treat.

"Why me?"

"Because you were nice."

"So I get eaten?"

"Then let me ask you. What do you want?"

"Thanks for putting me under the gun like this!"

"I'm serious, tell me. What is it that you want?"

I paused. What the hell was she trying to pull? To embarrass me before she dived in and feasted on my lower intestines? Was she genuinely just curious as to who she was attacking? Or was this some way out? All these thoughts rushed through my head as it became increasingly difficult to breathe. To state the obvious, she was leaving me no choice but to go her way.

"I…I…I want love!"

She looked down at me and soften her grip. She flipped me over and stared at me smiling. When I would watch those Nat Geo videos of a tiger hunting a deer, I always thought the tiger was cool. Though, I would wonder how the deer felt. It must have sucked being caught by the tiger and outside of an act of God having no way out. Sad thing was that nine times out of ten, it was the deer's own damn fault.

Sucks when you're the deer.

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes! The honest shameful truth!"

"Okay." Lynn said as she leaned in to whisper "I want love too."

I was confused by that moment as she lunged at me from the side. All I was saw was a bright white light. I wasn't sure if I was dead or not, but I never been here and had also never been so at peace before. In a way, I was content with what just happened. Sure, it would suck if I died.

But, if I was dead, why be upset?

Coming to, I was in a bed inside the emergency room. Doctor Lagasse was right next to me as an older male doctor hovered above me. Doing a quick body scan, I felt good. Someway, somehow, I had escaped Lynn's clutches. And I was with Doctor Lagasse no less. It appeared as though this just been one hell of night once upon a time in Hollywood.

"Doctor Richard Anders?" The older doctor said.

"Yeah."

"Doctor Bert Hopkins. You suffered a cut with a great deal of blood loss. You were unconscious for a few hours as well. If not for this lovely lady, you and I wouldn't be speaking if you know what I mean?"

"Yeah." I said as I turned over to Doctor Lagasse who smiled at me.

"Yeah, I do."

Doctor Lagasse and I left the hospital as I regained my strength. I felt some pep in my step as I felt lucky to be alive. I didn't know what all exactly happened. But to be here right next to Doctor Lagasse worked for me. Then, I smelt something, something that forced me to stop dead in my tracks. Doctor Lagasse turned around and looked at me as if I had seen a ghost.

"Doctor Anders, you okay?"

I stood there frozen. What I was smelling was blood. And I felt driven to go, find it and consume it.

This was new for me.

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